


Still Water Runs Deep

by InkForTears



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alive Vernon Boyd & Erica Reyes, Alpha Derek, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Dead Allison Argent, Emotionally Hurt Stiles Stilinski, F/M, Feels, Gen, Guilt, Hurt/Comfort, IKEA, Kidnapping, Love Triangles, Monster of the Week, Mystery, Nice Jackson, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Multiple, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Derek, Scott is a Bad Friend, Slow Burn, Stiles Has Nightmares, Stiles Has Panic Attacks, Undecided Relationship(s), post season 3B
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-04
Updated: 2018-08-04
Packaged: 2018-11-23 11:03:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 36,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11401203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InkForTears/pseuds/InkForTears
Summary: Stiles was used to finding bodies in the woods – and didn’t that say something about his life.And when that body belongs to an attractive teenage girl without a family, of course the pack becomes interested and inserts themselves into her life despite her protests. She becomes the glue that holds together a struggling pack as they continue to deal with the fallout of the nogitsune. True colors will be revealed, loyalties will be tested, and when fear is personified, who will stand strong and who will crumble?





	1. Not a Body of Water in the Woods

**Author's Note:**

> Hey ya'll! This is my first fanfic. It's obviously diverges from canon since Erica and Boyd are still alive. Sadly, Allison is still dead even though I really like her character. I needed her death for plot purposes. Peter, who I love, also didn't make the cut just because he didn't have a place in this story. I'm going to try and do weekly updates. I don't really have an ending in mind yet, but this is going to be a long story.

Stiles was used to finding bodies in the woods – and didn’t that say something about his life – so when he stumbled upon a girl his age lying on the ground, he didn’t panic and carefully crouched down to check if she was alive. A tiny, relieved sigh left him when he felt a steady, if fainter than healthy, pulse. Curiosity piqued, he used the flashlight app on his phone to roam over her.  


The light paused on the makeshift bandage on her left thigh and the rivulets of dried blood running down her leg the bandage didn’t soak up. Smears of blood and dirt also coated her bare feet which Stiles found weirder than anything else. Why would she be barefoot in the woods? On the sweep up her body, he noticed her injured wrists –traces of blood and rope burn he suspected. It was hard to tell with just his phone for light, but it definitely looked like her hands had been tied and she’d struggled against the bonds – hard.  


The rest of her looked uninjured but he wasn’t going to assume anything. He scrolled over his phone contacts, hesitating over Scott’s name, before moving past it to Derek’s name. Hitting call, he waited, anticipating the annoyed, gruff, “What?” when the werewolf answered.  


“So, funny story,” he began. “I found an injured teenage girl in the woods.”  


“Then call your dad,” Derek replied, unimpressed.  


“What if she’s, y’know, _different _?”  
__

____

He heard the long sigh through the phone and knew Derek would come.  


“Fine. Which part of the Preserve are you in?”  


Stiles gave him his location and settled in to wait, a pleased warmth in his chest at Derek’s willingness to come. So many horrible things transpired because of the Nogitsune; the one good thing was the improved relationship he had with Derek. They still bickered like old women, but somewhere, along the way, Derek had become the only person who could grasp the level of guilt he felt for killing all those people while possessed. What it felt like to live with that guilt crushing him Every. Single. Day.  


In that regard, Jackson had unexpectedly become bearable too. They never spoke of it, yet there was a silent understanding, one created by strange and rare circumstances next to no one could relate to.  


He wondered if the universe was specifically designed that way, where he already had people around him that could understand his impossible experience. That comfort only went so far though, and Stiles could feel himself crumbling a little more each day underneath the weight. He couldn’t go to the police station anymore without having a panic attack, same with the hospital, even looking at Coach was difficult.  


It didn’t take long for Derek to show up, or maybe he just got lost in the cesspool that were his thoughts and didn’t notice the time passing.  


“What were you doing out here, Stiles?” he asked, his voice void of judgement but held a twinge of concern.  


Stiles stuffed his hands in the pocket of his hoodie and gazed around the dark woods to avoid looking at Derek. Giving a half shrug he muttered, “I just needed to go for a walk. Get some fresh air.”  


Derek didn’t comment. He moved closer to inspect the girl, his nostrils flaring slightly and his forehead crinkling as he squatted down.  


“What?” Stiles demanded, worry kicking up his heart rate. “Is she supernatural?”  


“She’s human.”  


“You’re still frowning,” Stiles observed. “Why are you still frowning?”  


“There’s a scent…I don’t recognize it.” He gently turned her injured leg towards him and ripped off the piece of cloth that Stiles realized was actually part of her t-shirt. He couldn’t see the wound in the dark and with all the blood, but it must have been informative to Derek because he kept staring at it intently.  


“So, she’s human, but there’s a supernatural scent on her?” he summarized.  


Derek made some non-communitive noise in his throat as his hands brushed over her wrists and ankles. Suddenly, he scooped her up, carefully cradling her in his arms. She was tiny Stiles realized, especially in comparison to Derek’s bulky frame. Stiles scrambled after him as he presumably headed towards the Camaro.  


Derek had become a better Alpha the past year, but it was still a little weird to see him so gentle with the girl as he laid her out in the backseat.  


“Deaton’s?” Stiles asked once they were on the road.  


Derek nodded.  


“Any guess what the supernatural element is?” he asked.  


“No.”  


Stiles hadn’t really expected one, but he thought he’d ask. He called Deaton to make sure he was at his clinic and if not, if he could come. The lights were on and the Doctor held open the door for them when they arrived and led them towards the back. Like usual, his face didn’t give anything away as Derek laid the girl on the metal exam table and he started looking her over, starting with what he declared a stab wound on her leg.  


Usually he was the one getting stitched up, so it was different watching it happen to someone else. Deaton worked methodically and without comment as he moved onto the raw wounds around her wrists and ankles. Derek quietly mentioned he thought she had some broken or bruised ribs. A quick x-ray later he confirmed bruised ribs.  


“Other than dehydration and exhaustion, she should be fine with some rest,” Deaton concluded.  


“No head injury?” Stiles asked, worry still humming through him. If it wasn’t for the steady rise and fall of her chest, he would have thought she was dead. She was so still and pale on the table; she didn’t even twitch throughout Deaton’s examination.  


“I don’t suspect one, but I suppose we’ll find out when she wakes up.”  


“When do you think that will be?” Derek asked.  


Stiles glanced at him. His arms were crossed against his chest with his back pressed to the wall; the same position he retained for the past twenty minutes.  


“I have some smelling salts,” Deaton offered to Alpha who nodded.  


Deaton dug around a cabinet for a minute before pulling out what looked like a normal cold or allergy box found at the pharmacy. He extracted a little packet and walked back over, carefully ripping it open. “You might want to hold your breath,” he told Derek, and waved the packet under the girl’s nose.  


Slowly, she roused, her face wrinkling and her head turning from side to side. Her eyelids flickered open with some difficulty, like they were glued shut, and quickly closed. It happened a few times before she kept them half lidded, squinting against the bright lights.  


They could all tell the second she truly regained consciousness: her eyes popped wide open looking frantically around and a pained gasp fell from her lips as she inhaled. Another hiss of pain escaped her as she jerked upright, an arm unconsciously wrapping around her injured ribs as she scooted as far from them as possible without falling off the table.  


“Hey, you’re okay,” Stiles tried to soothe. He stepped forward, hands up in a friendly gesture. Derek yanked him back by the collar of his flannel shirt. Stiles shot him a dirty look.  


“Give her some space,” he ordered, his eyebrows doing their grouchy frown.  


He opened his mouth to argue, but werewolf senses. Right. Derek could probably hear just how fast her heart was racing, smell the fear and confusion in her chemo-signals. Though it pained him, he hung back, jamming his hand in his pockets in an effort to keep himself still even though nerves were buzzing through him like untapped electricity.  


But then Deaton got to step forward and he felt offended that Deaton got to approach her when he didn’t. A grown man had to be more intimidating then someone her own age.  


“I’m Doctor Deaton,” he introduced himself in his calm druid way. “This is Derek and Stiles,” he gestured to each of them in turn. “They brought you here after discovering you in the woods.”  


Stiles watched her face closely, waiting for her reaction, and realized it was the first time he really looked at her. A pit formed in his stomach. She looked wrecked. Dark make-up was smeared around her red rimmed and bloodshot eyes. Even without the smudges of make-up, Stiles could see there were dark rings under her eyes from a lack of sleep, and it didn’t necessarily look like a recent development and he had to wonder how long she’d been captive. Old tear trails on her cheeks just emphasized how pale and frantic she looked. A split lip seemed to just top it all off.  


She was shaking, and Derek had to pull him back again. Her eyes, a deep turquoise green, darted around at all of them looking distrustful and wary. Fast, shallow breaths were causing her pain, but she couldn’t seem to stop sucking in air rapidly.  


“She’s going to work herself into a panic attack,” he yelled at Derek, tugging against his hold.  


"Stiles,” he barked. “Give her a few minutes to adjust.”  


But his own corresponding panic was being triggered and he suddenly had an appreciation for what other people went through when he had panic attacks; it was terrifying. Watching, being unable to do anything as another person completely lost themselves to the panic overriding every other thought and feeling.  


Derek’s warm hand gripped the nape of his neck with firm pressure and Stiles felt himself being grounded. Some of the anxiety drained away and his breathing and heart slowed. Sagging a bit against the Alpha’s body, he resigned himself to watching her work through her fear. It wasn’t a full blown panic attack, but she dangled on the cusp for a few minutes. Fear and pain were battling it out and the longer her breathing rushed out in sporadic bursts, Stiles could tell the pain was beginning to win.  


Panic attacks were already painful – not being able to breath, the pressure of suffocating – he couldn’t imagine what that felt like with bruised ribs. She gritted her teeth and closed her eyes as she deliberating sucked in a slow breath. It stuttered out quickly and unevenly, but her next inhale was just as controlled. Gradually, her exhales were just as smooth, and her breathing returned to normal, albeit a bit shallower than normal.  


Stiles felt some of the tension leave Derek and the room in general became more relaxed.  


“Why am I in a vet’s office?” she asked, in a soft, hoarse voice. Her eyes were still closed, her head slightly bowed, but they were encouraged with the development.  


Deaton left, quickly returning with a bottle of water which he cautiously placed on the table. Her eyes jerked open and he stepped back. She seemed to be waiting for an answer before she touched the water and Stiles wondered if she knew how motivational that was to a room full of worried men.  


“I often help with injuries the hospital would question,” Deaton offered.  


“Why would they question them?” she whispered, licking her dry lips. Her eyes volleyed from Deaton to Derek and Stiles.  


“If they were supernatural in origin. Things normal people wouldn’t comprehend or accept. We assume that’s what happened to you,” he gently nudged.  


Her eyes widened and she hugged herself tighter. “I…don’t – I don’t know what they were,” she stuttered, voice breaking.  


“Can you tell us about it?” Derek asked. “We might be able to…”  


“Help?” she supplied, looking dubious.  


Derek nodded stiffly.  


Squeezing her eyes shut, she shook her head back and forth.  


Derek leaned forward before pulling himself back upright. Stiles suspected her heart was pounding again. “How did you escape?” he asked curious, but also hoping starting at the end of the story might be an easier way to breach the topic.  


“They let me go,” she whispered.  


“Uh…what?” he stated, blinking.  


Cracking open an eye, she looked at him. “They, um…they performed some sort of ceremony…when it didn’t work they let me go. Said I wasn’t the right person.” Her voice cracked on the last word and she coughed.  


Stiles couldn’t help himself and pushed the water bottle closer to her body. This time she reached for it with shaky hands, her fingers jerking mechanic-like around the plastic. A frustrated whine escaped her throat when she couldn’t make her fingers unscrew the cap. Silently, Stiles undid it for her, and if he didn’t step back over to Derek well…no one mentioned it.  


“So a group?” Deaton clarified.  


She nodded, taking tiny sips of water.  


“What did they look like? Did they look human?” he wondered.  


“For the most part, yeah. Except for their eyes. Their eyes were…” she paused to think, “they were like the opposite of reptiles? The pupil was horizontal and they didn’t have any white in their eye.”  


She sipped at the water again, her still trembling hands rattling the plastic. She looked upset about it and set the bottle down with a thunk. Swallowing, she continued. “They also…vibrated?” she looked at them questioningly, like they might know what she was talking about.  


None of them did.  


“I don’t know if it was because of the vibrating or what, but they moved super fast. It looked like they could teleport. And…” her forehead creased and she bite down into her already swollen lip. She watched them, probably waiting to be declared crazy. “They could move through objects.”  


After a prolonged silence, Deaton shook his head. “I’ve never heard of creatures like this before. Derek?”  


“No.”  


“Nothing even close in the Argent’s bestiary,” Stiles added.  


“Anything else you can tell us about them?” Deaton asked, his tone betraying his curiosity at the mystery.  


“They were very cult like,” she offered, sucking in her bottom lip then making a face at the taste of blood as she reopened the cut. “Hooded cloaks, strange language, I got the impression that they did this a lot. Like finding the right person was their goal or something.”  


They didn’t have anything to say to that. The pack had seen many strange things the past two years, but a super fast/vibrating cult that kidnapped people was new.  


“I think it’s time to call your dad,” Derek suggested.  


Stiles nodded, digging out his phone to make the call. While he did that Deaton took the chance to ask her more about her injuries, Derek listening intently to her answers.  


Ten minutes later Derek abruptly left the room, returning a minute later with the Sheriff in tow. Werewolf hearing. The Sheriff looked warily at each of them before focusing on the injured girl on the table.  


“This is my dad, Sheriff Stilinski” Stiles announced, happily bouncing on the balls of his feet. “This is –” his eyes went wide. “SHIT!” He threw his hands up, digging his fingers into the strands of his hair. “We didn’t even ask what your name is. Fail! Mega fail!” He looked incredulous at Derek and Deaton, pointing an incriminating finger their way. “How did you not ask for her name?”  


The Sheriff ignored his son in favor of watching the teenage girl who looked exhausted and shaken but also rather amused at the spectacle Stiles was making of himself.  


“My name is Lucca West,” she told the Sheriff when she felt his eyes on her.  


Derek smacked Stiles in the stomach and told him to pay attention.  


“So, what’s going on?” the Sheriff asked. When he saw Lucca looking inquiringly at the others he looked to them as well, raising an eyebrow in question.  


“Well she got abducted by some weird supernatural thing so we need you to do your cop mojo and smooth things out,” Stiles explained, arms flailing around as he spoke.  


“Umm, other than tracking down my car, I don’t really…”  


“What about your parents?” the Sheriff asked kindly. “I’m sure they’re worried. Do you know how long you were gone?”  


She looked helplessly at him, seemingly overwhelmed with the questions.  


“It’s Thursday the 17th,” Stiles piped in helpfully.  


Lucca sucked in her lip again, her forehead wrinkled in concentration. “Three days? It was Monday afternoon when…”  


The Sheriff nodded, writing in a small notebook. “How did they get to you?”  


Tears welled in her eyes as she shook her head. “They took me out of my car.” Her voice cracked again.  


“Where were you when it happened?” the Sheriff asked, gently.  


She shook her head again, a tear slipping down her cheek. “You don’t understand. I was driving. It’s not like I stopped. Once second I was driving and the next I was in the woods surrounded by all these things wearing cloaks.”  


The Sheriff was speechless for a moment, his mouth hanging open. With a resigned sigh, he rubbed a hand over his head. “Well at least that explains one mystery. We found your car abandoned on the road still running, still in gear, and with all the doors locked. Frankly, I’m surprised it didn’t veer off the road.”  


“Seriously?” Stiles uttered, mouth agape.  


“Can I get it back tonight?” she asked.  


He shook his head. “It’s at the impound lot. Won’t open till tomorrow morning.” She looked crestfallen at the news and his own stomach tightened in response. “How about I call someone for you? To come pick you up?”  


Not meeting anyone’s eyes, she shook her head.  


“Lucca, you’re a minor, right?” he checked. “I need to call your guardians, let them know you’re safe.”  


“Sheriff…” Derek started, breaking his silence; sadness and empathy on his face as he glanced at Lucca.  


“There’s no one to call,” Lucca mumbled, head bent down.  


The Sheriff frowned.  


“My parents,” her voice wavered. “They died two months ago. I’m emancipated.”  


An uncomfortable silence followed her statement.  


The Sheriff shifted. “I can take you home?” he offered.  


Again, Lucca shook her head. “I’m on a road trip to find a – a new place to live. I – couldn’t…” she squeezed her eyes shut, “I couldn’t live there anymore,” she confessed, hoarsely.  


“You’re really striking out tonight, Dad,” Stiles commented lightly, but his mouth was turned down and his eyebrows were pinched together. “Why don’t you stay with us tonight?” he offered to Lucca. “I can take you to get your car in the morning.”  


Sucking in a shuddering breath, she gave a weak, “Okay.”  


Stiles nodded decisively and some of the tension in the room dissipated. The Sheriff left first, bidding everyone a goodnight and sending Stiles a meaningful look that had the teenager lifting both hands in innocence. Deaton was giving Lucca last minute instructions on how to care for her injuries and what to expect the next few weeks. Derek still slouched against the wall brooding and watching the vet and Lucca.  


“Derek, you’ll give us a ride, right? I left Roscoe at home,” Stiles asked the Alpha. When he received a nod he asked Lucca, “Ready to go?”  


Gingerly, she slid off the table, grimacing as her feet searched for the floor. Derek appeared at her side as she swayed dangerously, her face taking on a green hue. He grabbed her upper arms, conscious of her fractured ribs, as her head rolled and she pitched forward into his chest. For a minute no one spoke, Lucca’s ragged breathing the only sound in the room.  


Stiles could see black veins traveling up Derek’s forearms as he drained her pain. It didn’t seem to be helping her regain her footing, if anything, it looked like he was lulling her to sleep with her eyes now closed and her breathing evening out.  


Derek muttered something too low for him to hear, but Lucca nodded and opened her eyes. Taking a deep breath, she took a step back, stumbling a little as she put too much weight on her injured leg. Derek waited another beat till she was steady enough to released her arms. She still looked like she was about to collapse so they quickly bid Deaton goodbye and ushered her out to the car. She limped the whole way, but didn’t complain. Didn’t say a word.  


Stiles bite back his own comments, especially about her feet which must have been killing her torn up the way they were. He eyed her over his shoulder as she sagged into the back seat of the Camaro, her head resting against the window and eyelids dropping.  


A jumble of thoughts bounced around his head moving too fast to settle on one. Lucca. Her parent’s deaths. How they died. A new supernatural threat/creature in Beacon Hills. If supernatural creatures could form cults. What did they want with Lucca? What did this “ceremony” entail? Was it scientifically possible to vibrate at the right frequency to cause super speed. Technically, The Flash got his speed from a science accident…  


“Stiles.”  


Derek’s voice jerked him away from his thoughts and back to the car. They were parked in his driveway, right next to his trusty old jeep. The house was dark except for the front lights. His dad would be out on patrol for another couple hours.  


He slipped out of the Camaro, a hand caressing the smooth leather on the way and went ahead to unlock the front door and flick the lights on inside. When he turned back Derek was already helping Lucca out of the car and towards him. He opened his mouth to ask why he didn’t just carry her, but promptly shut it when he remembered the look of terror when she woke up.  


The supernatural cult had her for three days before they performed the mysterious “ceremony” and subsequently released her.  


Three days.  


Three. Days.  


A heavy breath whooshed past his lips, and for a fleeting moment, he felt the pressure constantly bearing down lift; the split second relief highlighting how normal the feeling of suffocating had become.  


He caught Derek shooting him a look as he stepped into the living room with Lucca, the eyebrows in action once again, and Stiles lifted one shoulder in response, feeling himself slouch down inside his oversized hoodie.  


“Call if you need anything,” Derek told him, green eyes still evaluating him before flickering over to Lucca with the same look.  


Stiles nodded, not finding any words. But he often didn’t need to with Derek. The werewolf left and Stiles focused his attention back on Lucca.  


“We have a spare bedroom upstairs,” he said, tilting his head towards the staircase.  


“The couch is fine,” she muttered, limping over to it and sinking down into the cushions like it was the most comfortable thing she ever felt.  


Right. She probably didn’t want to hobble up the stairs with her injuries. The bandages around her ankles, left thigh, and wrists were blaring white. He zoned in on them, everything else fading into the background, until he snapped himself out of it and rubbed his aching eyes. Sleep. He needed sleep. Wondered if tonight he might actually get some.  


“I’ll just grab you some clothes then. I’ll be right back,” he tossed over his shoulder, already making his way up the stairs.  


By the time he returned with his smallest pair of sweatpants and a shirt, Lucca was already passed out on the couch. A hand was tucked against her cheek and her knees were curled up towards her chest. Her light brown hair was a tangled mess around her face and shoulders. He placed the clothes on the coffee table and tugged at the blanket hanging on the back of the couch. Carefully, he draped it over her body, making sure every inch of skin was covered.  


It felt weird having a girl in his house. The normally empty rooms suddenly felt warm and inviting again, like when his mom was still alive. Like somehow, just with her presence, the energy changed for the better and filled up the space.  


Rubbing at his eyes again, he shuffled back upstairs, leaving the lights on for his dad and Lucca in case she woke up; he didn’t want her freaking out being in the dark in a strange place.


	2. Jeeps, Milkshakes, Curly Fries, and Hugs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The chapter title says it all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look at me being all responsible and posting once a week.  
> Feedback makes me smile :)

Morning came way too soon. The heavy fatigue he wore like his favorite hoodie remained despite sleeping through the entire night, a feat in itself. Blurry eyed, he dragged himself through his morning routine till he stumbled down into the living room and everything from last night slammed back into his memory.  


Lucca was still sleeping on the couch, apparently having not moved an inch overnight. He really didn’t want to wake her. Especially since she didn’t have anywhere to go. And everything she’d been through the past few days…  


He knew she had to be financially secure to be approved for emancipation, but it still felt cruel to kick her out when she was injured and didn’t know anyone in Beacon Hills. Sighing, he went over and gently called her name a few times, hesitant to touch her. He grimaced in sympathy when her eyes finally fluttered open and met his gaze.  


“Sorry. If you want to get your car before school we need to get going.”  


She nodded at him, carefully stretching her legs out and untangling them from the blanket. Hovering awkwardly, he asked her if she wanted food or a shower or anything else he could offer all the while feeling inadequate. Other than accepting the use of the bathroom she didn’t want anything else and was ready to go in five minutes.  


“You have a jeep,” she smiled as he unlocked the door.  


Her face scrunched, probably in pain, as she climbed in but didn’t comment on it so Stiles let it slide. Patting the dash affectionately, he hummed. “Yeah, this is Roscoe. No one else appreciates her majesties,” he complained, starting her up. “You have excellent taste.” He nodded sharply as if that settled the matter, and in his mind it did.  


“So what are you going to do once you get your car back?” he wondered.  


Lucca had her face turned towards her window, watching the town pass by. In the morning sunlight, her hair looked golden and neater than it had when she woke up, but no where near the standards the girls he knew had. Her face had also been cleaned and he noticed for the first time the sprinkle of golden freckles all along her face that especially highlighted her eyes.  


“Well, hopefully all my stuff is still in there. Then I’m going to find the nearest B&B, take a shower, and sleep for the rest of the day.”  


Her voice still sounded horse, but more of a morning huskiness rather than a ‘I’ve been kidnapped and have been screaming for hours’ hoarseness.  


“Why a B&B?” he wondered, chewing on his lip, fingers tapping on the steering wheel as they sat at a traffic light.  


“They’re more homey than hotels. Usually nicer.”  


Stiles couldn’t refute that. Nothing said homeless like staying in a series of hotels. Flickering his eyes over to her, he asked, “How long have you been on the road trip?”  


“Two weeks? Maybe?”  


Stepping on the gas when the light changed, he nodded, figuring she couldn’t have been at it long if her parents had only died two months ago. She would have had to deal with their funerals, the insurance company, getting legally emancipated, dealing with her parent’s assets…  


“Anything specific you’re looking for? In a place to settle down,” he clarified, trying to keep the conversation light.  


For the first time since he started driving, Lucca glanced at him. “Not really. Just a place that feels right.”  


He nodded, curious about where she used to live, but kept the question to himself unsure if it would aggravate her grief. But then argued with himself that that kind of consideration had pissed him off when the pack tried to do it with him regarding the Nogitsune. However, she didn’t have guilt so tied up with her grief that it was impossible to untangle them. And she seemed level headed this morning, very calm in comparison to last night.  


“Nothing’s stuck yet?”  


She gave her head a little shake. “They were just blurs. Something to look at and forget as you drive by.”  


He winced to himself thinking Beacon Hills would definitely stand out now.

 

Despite the numerous times his dad threatened to confiscate his jeep for misbehaving, Stiles had yet to make a trip to the impound lot so he wasn’t familiar with the personnel there like he was at the station. His dad had it covered though, and after comparing Lucca to her license they apparently removed from her car, they handed the keys over and had her sign some paper work minus the fees.  


“Thank your dad for me?” she asked as she walked – limped – across the lot.  


“Sure,” he agreed easily. “Not really your fault anyway.”  


She stopped next to a deep maroon vehicle and Stiles smirked, pleased. “Jeep,” he noted.  


It wasn’t like his baby, who despite being loved, was old and failing more by the day. Lucca’s Jeep was a new Jeep Grand Cherokee with a leather interior that he moaned over as he peeked inside. The license plate also said Colorado which answered part of his question about where she was from.  


Chuckling lightly, she nodded before hitting the button on her key fob to pop the trunk door. Out of the back she rummaged around, extracting a teal fleece sweater that was fell artfully baggy on her slender frame when she pulled it over her head, wincing.  


“Turn,” she commanded, twirling her finger at him.  


He glanced at the black leggings in her hand and dutifully gave her his back watching the empty lot around them.  


When she gave the okay, she was slipping her feet into a pair of black flats. He could see the outline of the bandage on her thigh through the fabric and hoped no one questioned her about it; the guy manning the impound booth hadn’t seen below her shoulders because of the counter.  


“So,” she began, hitting the key fob again, closing the back door. “Thanks for finding me out in the middle of the woods, in the dark…” she let that hang there, not seeming to expect an answer but wanted to let him know how odd that was and yes, she did notice. “And for letting me crash with you.”  


The smile she sent him, while genuine, looked strained. Stiles had the sad thought that she fit right in with the pack after all they’d been through. Sad backstory including dead family: check. Thrown into the supernatural world: check. Kidnapping experience: check. Supernatural injuries: check.  


Actually, he was surprised she hadn’t asked about their involvement with the supernatural.  


Giving her his own strained smile, he nodded. “You got a phone somewhere in there?” he asked tilting his head towards the front of her jeep.  


She shot him a confused look but moved around him to look for it in her purse which was still sitting on the passenger’s seat. He took it from her, ignoring her irritated look and swiped at the screen. A picture of white dandelion heads blowing in the breeze came to life and dimmed immediately. A 4 % battery warning flashed.  


“Passcode?” he inquired, dismissing the notification.  


Rolling her eyes, she took it back and did a complicated pattern across the screen. Grinning, he snatched it back and entered his info before calling himself. Pleased once he heard his ringtone he ended the call abruptly and handed the phone back. She accepted it, lifting an arched eyebrow.  


Shrugging, he rocked back on his heels. “I figure you’ll stick around town at least for a few days, right?” he asked. He could see she was rapidly losing steam now that she had her jeep back; her shoulders were slumped, her eyes weary. It wouldn’t be surprising if she did nothing but slept for a few days. “And if you want to talk to someone who knows the basics of what happened to you…well call. Or text,” he offered, nonchalantly.  


Judging by the penetrating look she was giving him, he didn’t pull off the casual vibe he was going for. Anxiety gripped his stomach in a knot and he couldn’t figure out why he cared so much that she kept in contact with him.  


“Thanks, Stiles,” she whispered, eyes flicking down.  


He gave an awkward wave and headed back to Roscoe. The clock flared to life as he turned the engine over and swore at the time. Cranking the jeep into gear, he tore out of the parking lot praying he got to school on time or he’d have to suffer through yet another detention gleefully handed out by Harris.  


He did. Barely. And thankfully it was a Friday because his concentration was shot. It got to the point where even Lydia shot him an annoyed glare when he dropped his phone for the fourth time because he couldn’t stop fiddling with it. Really, he should be commended for not texting Lucca throughout the day like his fingers were itching to do. Instead, he busied himself with searching the internet for anything relating to supernatural cults. The results were surprising plentiful and equally useless. It was a good thing he was on his phone and at school otherwise he would have gotten lost in the black hole of information on cults google provided.  


“Are you coming to pack night?” Lydia’s voice broke through his revere.  


Blinking back into awareness, he realized he was standing at his locker, arm raised in the air but with no corresponding intent behind it. Shaking his head, he glanced at the redhead tapping an impatient foot at him.  


“Why wouldn’t I?” he asked, a heavy lump sinking in his stomach. Did they not want him to? Did Scott say something?  


She snapped a finger in his face startling him. Sighing, some of her annoyance slipped away and concern replaced it. “You’ve been more distracted and antsy than usual today. I wanted to make sure you didn’t forget about tonight. Spending time with the pack will be good for you.”  


“Right. Yeah. I’ll be there,” he promised, bobbing his head up and down.  


With another worried glance she walked off, the hallway surprisingly empty. The parking lot was equally as empty. It baffled Stiles that for someone who had been anxious to leave all day, he was somehow one of the last students at school. He puttered around the house for a while, half heartedly cleaning and doing homework, but he finally caved and texted Lucca asking if she was interested in an early dinner.  


It stood to reason that if she followed her plan for the day, she probably hadn’t eaten yet. And she been kidnapped for THREE DAYS. And somehow, he doubted they fed her. Especially if they weren’t human, and who knows what they needed for substance, so yeah…dinner was a priority.  


Considerate, whether she knew it or not, to his jittery nerves, Lucca texted back relatively quick agreeing. Twenty minutes later he sat facing her in an old booth worn with time and daily use at his favorite diner. She looked better. Less like a frightened and exhausted rabbit and more like a lazy teenager on a Saturday morning. She wore comfy looking black sweat pants and sweatshirt that had what he assumed was her previous school’s name and logo on them. Her hair was washed and piled into a messy bun. A pair of thin, black rimmed glasses made an appearance – an addition he hadn’t been expecting. Her face was clean and some of the weariness seemed to have lessened.  


That inexplicable part of him that was so vested in her gave an internal sigh in relief.  


“They have the best milkshakes here,” he announced as Lucca flipped open the menu to peruse the choices.  


She sent him a half smile and slight shake of her head. “Unless it’s going to be my entire meal, I definitely don’t have the stomach space.”  


He nods at her sage wisdom.  


“Are you getting one?” she asks.  


Laughing, he asks. “Was that a real question?”  


“What flavor?” she demanded.  


“Chocolate,” he answered, defensively. No one messed with his chocolate milkshakes. No one. It was one of the few pleasures he had left in life. That, and curly fries. He worshiped at the shrine of the curly fry god.  


Humming in approval, she continued to scout out the menu before she decided and relayed her order to their waitress who brought Stiles a chocolate milkshake and basket of curly fries without prompting. Stiles wiggled his eyebrows at Lucca smugly. She snorted and rolled her eyes despite the smile tugging at her lips.  


“So,” she began conversationally. “Supernatural shit?”  


A sigh left Stiles, the weight sitting on his chest momentarily feeling heavier. “Yeah. We’re kinda a hellmouth.”  


Lucca sucked in her bottom lip. Looking uncertain, she asked, “Do you… do you mind telling me?”  


He fiddled with his straw considering his response. He wasn’t sure if it would be cathartic to unload everything on someone objective and in the know, or if it would just prod at festering wounds. Meeting her worried gaze, he didn’t feel pressured to answer in the affirmative. In fact, he had a feeling Lucca would be a really good listener.  


So, starting with looking for a half a dead body in the woods, he gave her the run down of the last two years. She was quiet for the most part, asking a few questions here and there while picking at her food once it arrived. Once they got to the Nogitsune, she stopped eating all together, eyes widening and face blanching.  


He choked out the story of the mayhem and death he involuntarily created while possessed. Before he could even explain about Allison, Lucca’s dainty hand shot across the table and grabbed his. She didn’t say anything, but her eyes urged him on, glistening with unshed tears in anticipation. They gripped each other fiercely, to the point of pain, and Stiles didn’t know who needed the support more in that moment.  


Turquoise eyes filled his vision, replacing the normal images of Allison, the oni, the sword. The words left his tongue on autopilot. His normal word vomit that had been missing the past few months making a spectacular comeback. Everything came rushing out. The devastation, the grief, the fall out – physical and mental – on himself, the city, and the pack as a whole. How Scott says he doesn’t blame Stiles but doesn’t act that way. How fractured the pack has become emotionally even though they still go through the motions.  


He bared his broken, sorrow filled soul to a girl he hardly knew in the middle of a public diner.  
It left him panting as he concluded his retelling.  


Baring his soul didn’t make him feel any better, but it didn’t make it any worse either. An acceptable outcome all things considered. He didn’t feel nearly as hollowed out and raw as he expected.  


Lucca swam back into focus across from him. The pain from their clenched hands registered first, quickly followed by the fat tears rolling silently down her cheeks. She didn’t say anything. Didn’t wipe away the tears that continued to slide past her glasses. Didn’t release his hand.  


She just continued to watch and let him settle after exposing so much of himself.  


Suddenly, he felt a little shy in her presence. And awed by her reaction. Sure everyone around him was sympathetic, but Lucca somehow, miraculously, understood. No, she didn’t go through anything even similar like Jackson did, but regardless, she was somehow the first person he felt was truly empathetic.  


And it looked like it was killing her just as much as it was him.  


“I shouldn’t have told you that,” he panicked, jerking his hand away. “You’re upset. You’re really upset,” he rambled watching her quivering lip and distraught face. His own heart kicked into action in response.  


“No, it’s fine,” she sniffled, finally wiping at her salty cheeks. She had to remove her glasses to get at her eyes. She sounded embarrassed. “I’m a cry baby. Always have been.”  


She wasn’t wearing makeup so mopping up her tears was easy.  


“There’s just… nothing to say to that,” she muttered wetly, blinking rapidly. “I want to say something perfect. To make you feel better, but there’s nothing,” she mumbled, hiding partially behind her hand. “Words…” she shook her head and hide her face completely behind both hands. Her shoulders lifted as she inhaled sharply.  


Stiles let her have a moment, trying to pin down his own mixed up emotions. Being concerned for Lucca surprised him. That should not have been his reaction after confessing his deepest wounds. She shouldn’t have been more upset than him, and yet…from all appearances she took the story harder than he did. Of course he’d lived through it, thought about it daily, and this was her first time hearing about it… even still something felt strange about the situation. But not in a bad way.  


A tiny pool of warmth gathered in his stomach that someone cared so strongly that he’d been through hell. Him. The one at fault. And Lucca was across the table from him trying to suck up her tears because she wanted to comfort _him _.  
__

__He didn’t know what to do about that.  
_ _

____

____

“This was not how I pictured dinner going,” he muttered.  


Lucca gave a broken, half hearted laugh and lowered her hands with one last wipe across her eyelids. She put her glasses back one and sucked in one more big breath before releasing it and appeared calm again.  


“Yeah,” she agreed. “My bad,” she apologized sheepishly.  


He shook his head. “Nah. We’re just doing things a little backwards. Instead of working up to the big stuff we’re just lying all our cards out there.”  


She let out a little amused snort but didn’t disagree. A comfortable silence fell between the two and Stiles let it. He was sure Lucca’s mind was rolling around the truth that supernatural creatures were real and she met a werewolf last night.  


A beep startled him from the stupor he slipped into. Digging his phone out of his jeans, he looked at the reminder alert flashing across the screen that warned him about the pack night in forty-five minutes. His fingers clenched around the device, the reminder an ironic, unpleasant reminder how much his life had changed; he never used to need reminders about meetings or school projects. But now, if he didn’t write everything down, his exhausted brain couldn’t remember details without mixing them up.  


“Do you need to go?” Lucca asked, jarring him out of his thoughts.  


He shrugged, setting the phone on the table. “In a little while. No rush.”  


She frowned, but it seemed to be more because of his attitude than having to leave. Actually, leaving would probably be smart, she looked exhausted again. Crying must have used up the last of her reserves. The dark shadows under her eyes suddenly seemed more prominent.  


“Don’t even say it,” she protested, slumping back against the vinyl seat. “I know.”  


His eyebrows rose and he blinked. “Huh?”  


The look she gave him was unimpressed. “You were about to tell me I look tired and should get some sleep.”  
“Mind reader!” he gasped.  


A reluctant twitch in her lips made him do an internal victory dance. He meant to smirk at her but it came out softer, kinder.  


“Aren’t we both just hot messes…” he murmured, sighing.  


“Yeah, well…” Lucca trailed off shrugging then wrinkled her nose in pain looking annoyed and frustrated with her bruised ribs.  


Stiles opened his mouth to ask how it happened, but decided against it at the last second. The conversation had already been intense tonight and they were wrapping up the evening, that would just open up a whole new can of worms.  


“I can see if I can get you something stronger than normal pain killers,” he offered. Melissa or Deaton could probably hook him up. He knew from experience how draining being in pain could be.  


“Eh.”  


She didn’t seem to care one way or the other, fading more by the minute. Digging in her pocket she pulled out enough cash to cover both their meals and a nice tip and scooted out of the booth.  


“Come on,” she ordered over his protest about paying for his own food. And really, looking back at their table, neither of them ate very much. His appetite another thing that had changed since the Nogitsune.  


He walked her to her Jeep not really wanting their time together to end. Lucca was relaxing to be around. And once she was feeling better, he bet she’d be a lot of fun if the peeks he’d seen tonight were anything to go by. It was selfish, but he hoped she stuck around for a while.  


The parking lot was empty for the moment, twilight making everything feel quiet. Lucca pulled out her keys and Stiles hesitated, wanting to reach out. Apparently she was the mind reader because she turned towards him fully, stepping close for the hug he wanted but felt too shy to ask for.  


Her thin arms wrapped around his back, her head tucked below his chin, her cheek pressed to his chest raising her glasses a bit. Automatically, he encircled her with his arms gently, careful not to aggravate her ribs, but relishing in the contact feeling like a touch-starved wolf. The tension in his shoulders released and he pulled her a fraction of an inch closer, nuzzling his chin into her hair that smelled of herbal shampoo.  


He felt a small puff of air from her across his collarbone as she melted a little against him. She seemed just as needy about physical contact. It made him wonder when the last time she’d been hugged was. Before her parents died? Now he felt bad that they spend the evening talking about him.  


His eyes closed as he soaked in the feel of Lucca wrapped around him. The longer the hug continued the more he didn’t want to let go. Lucca didn’t make any moves to pull away, but it was becoming something more than a goodbye hug and Stiles didn’t think either of them wanted to deal with that, despite apparently needing it.  


So reluctantly, he loosened his arms and let them drop, taking half a step back.  


She gave him a sad smile he couldn’t interpret with so many emotions flying around and climbed into her Jeep. “Bye, Stiles.”  


He blew out a breath as she drove away and made his way to Roscoe to head to the loft. Everyone had already gathered when he arrived and the atmosphere compared to being with Lucca felt oppressive and lonely. Jackson nodded at him from where he was sitting with Lydia on the loveseat and he nodded back. Scott was wrapped up with Kira; Isaac was talking to Cora by the windows; Erica was whispering – probably dirty suggestions – to Boyd on the couch.  


Since everyone was coupled up, intentional or not, Stiles headed to the kitchen where Derek was surveying his pack in his usual broody manner. He didn’t say anything to the alpha as he leaned against the counter next to him.  


“You were with Lucca?” Derek asked, nostrils flaring subtly.  


He nodded. “Yeah.”  


“How is she?”  


Stiles cracked his knuckles, considering. “Pretty good I guess… She’s still exhausted, in pain, but handling being kidnapped well. Unless she’s just really good at compartmentalizing. Which actually,” he reconsidered, “She probably is. Didn’t make a fuss about the supernatural stuff either,” he added.  


Derek nodded. “Where is she staying?” he asked after a minute of silence.  


“She said the nearest B&B and there’s only one in Beacon Hills so …” he shrugged.  


They watched the pack for a little longer before Lydia came over declaring they needed to actually hang out with the pack otherwise there was no point to the night. Giving synchronized sighs, they joined the group and the current fight over food options and movies choices.


	3. Confirmation Confirmed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's cute texting between Stiles and Lucca!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Third week in a row posting a chapter!!! Boo-yah! Yes, I just said boo-yah.  
> I had some technical difficulty getting this chapter formatted for some weird reason - it didn't happen last week *shrug*. I think it's okay now, but it took forever. As a reader, I never gave it a thought, but now that I'm posting all you other authors have my mad respect.

Lucca had weird dreams that night and she totally blamed it on Stiles. A tree, the Nemeton no doubt, flickered in and out, weaving an omniscient presence through the dreamscape. Everything had a translucent quality, and she watched, but didn’t interact with the ghostly figures acting out a choreography only they knew. 

When she woke with a gasp in the morning, the dream images dissolved almost instantly. The feelings though, those stuck around leaving her with a sense of grief and restless agitation. 

Muttering about ‘chanting white rabbits before sleeping’, she gingerly slipped out of bed, an arm wrapped around her ribcage as if that would lessen the pain. It didn’t help, but the pain killers on the bedside table would and she downed three with some water. 

The B&B was set in a beautiful Victorian house and run by a middle age couple, Maryann and Thomas Seller. Thomas was actually an insurance agent so the day to day running’s of the B&B fell on Maryann. At check in she gushed about restoring and decorating the house and Lucca had to admit she did a good job. Everything was deep, bold colors that made it feel elegant and homey at the same time. The furniture was sturdy and charming in rich wood. 

Despite the room and bed being comfortable, that restless energy she picked up from the dream remained making her antsy. A glance at the bedside clock told her it was barely seven o’clock; early, but not too early to go downstairs. Changing into leggings and an oversized long sleeve t-shirt that covered her wrists, she gathered up her laptop and some school books for the heck of it and made herself comfortable in the living room. 

Another couple was staying for the weekend but Maryann told her not to expect to see them much and certainty not for breakfast. Lucca loved Maryann. When she saw Lucca already awake she invited her into the kitchen, made her a cup of coffee – that right there endeared her to Lucca – and proceeded to chat up a storm while preparing food. 

She knew Lucca’s parents died fairly recently thus gaining emancipation and was currently traveling while finishing high school online. After understanding why a teenage girl was on her own and expressing her condolences, she didn’t pry. She just continued to talk about past guests, the town, her husband, and her son who was in his Junior year of college. Lucca relaxed into the homey atmosphere even though melancholy replaced the restlessness. 

The ache in her chest had nothing to do with her bruised ribs. 

Her mom used to be a morning person. Something her dad – whom was decidedly _not _a morning person – complained about constantly. She could have half her day done by the time he groggily made his way downstairs and spent twenty minutes in bleary eyed silence nursing a cup of coffee.__

Maryann, bless her soul, picked up on her mood change and shooed her off as soon as her plate was clean. Lucca tried doing homework but couldn’t find the motivation or concentration. Trolled the internet for a while: felt dissatisfied with that. Even tried working on the story she was writing till she realized she’d been staring at the screen for a thirty minutes straight without even considering what to write next. 

Sighing, she exited out and ended up staring at the background screen – a shot of a turquoise lake surrounded by evergreens in the mountains. The mountains reminded her of home and the sharp twinge in her chest made tears prickle in her eyes. She rubbed at her nose, willing the tell-tale ‘I’m about to cry’ sensation away. 

A looming figure snapped Lucca out of her thoughts. With her frantic heart in her throat, her eyes focused on…Derek Hale? A shuddering breath left her lips as her shoulders relaxed. 

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to startle you,” he apologized. 

“It’s fine,” she lied. It’s not like him popping up out of no where reminded her of the weird supernatural cult that kidnapped her. Nope. Not at all. 

Derek didn’t seem convinced and Lucca couldn’t find the strength at the moment to care. 

“What are you doing here?” she wondered, focusing back on him. He was still looming and she really wished he’d sit down. 

His face didn’t change when he answered, “I wanted to see how you were doing,” so she wasn’t sure what to make of it. 

In Stiles brief summary of werewolf behavior, he mentioned the Alpha being in charge of a territory: maybe he felt guilty she got kidnapped on his turf? 

Remembering not to shrug this time, she gave a blasé, “I’m fine,” for a reply. 

Ah, the eyebrows. Stiles specifically took time to mention Derek’s ‘eyebrow language’. Seeing it in person, she had to admit Stiles nailed it with his description. 

“Would you like me to drain your pain?” 

Her lips fell open. Not a question she was expecting. “Does it hurt you? You’re taking the pain, right?” She vaguely remembers him doing it Thursday night, but after getting down from the exam table everything became fuzzy. 

“I can feel it, yes. But it’s tempered. Like an echo,” he explained. 

She still didn’t understand. How could he feel an echo of pain? 

“Lucca.” 

Her attention jerked back to Derek realizing she’d gotten lost in her thoughts again. His face softened and his stiff posture loosened. “Please let me.” 

She nodded mutely and felt guilty when he was the one who looked relieved. He stepped closer and she shut her laptop and moved it to the nearby table. “…um?” she began. 

He offered an open hand and she stared at the tan skin of his palm before tentatively placing her own within his grasp. Immediately, the pain began to disappear and Lucca sucked in a deep breath realizing she’d unconsciously been inhaling shallowly to minimize the pain. She watched in fascination as black veins appeared on Derek’s hand and disappeared up his arm. They were moving, like they were alive, and she wondered where it went and what about werewolf physiology allowed them to do this and why. The enhanced senses – strength, hearing, healing – she understood. However, the ability to take away pain seemed an unusual skill a predator would possess. 

As the pain ran out and the black veins disappeared, they were left sitting in awkward silence. Or at least Lucca was because Derek was looming. Again. And it made her uncomfortable. Or something about him did. She didn’t necessarily think it was actually Derek himself…it was like when someone wore a scent you couldn’t stand. 

“Would you like to sit…?” she asked, a hand vaguely waving at the armchair across from the loveseat she claimed. Now that he checked up on her and drained her pain he didn’t really have a reason to stay but he silently moved to the armchair and sat down. 

Lucca’s mind wasn’t blank, she just had nothing to say to Derek. She wasn’t great with new people to begin with, and they had the awkward addition of knowing each others biggest secrets and sorrows right off the bat – courtesy of Stiles. Speaking of whom, she was going to chalk up the easy atmosphere with him to the weird circumstances of the past few days. 

Thankfully, Derek broke the silence. “I had the pack look for your kidnappers. We found their campground but it’s deserted now. We assume they left when they released you.” 

She nodded to that, not sure if she felt better or worse that they left already. At least the pack looked into it. 

The quiet returned and carried on for a few minutes, Lucca growing increasingly uncomfortable with neither of them talking. Derek seemed perfectly content to just sit there and she didn’t know how he managed that when she felt like she was going to combust from the awkwardness. She tugged her laptop back over and used the device to hide behind suddenly wishing it wasn’t a tiny thirteen-inch screen. Even with the electronic and the entirety of the internet between them Lucca couldn’t take it after another fifteen minutes. 

“I’m kinda tired,” she announced, closing the laptop and gathering the few books she had scattered. “I think I’m going to go lay down.” 

Derek’s face remained impassive when she rose to her feet so she took that as a sign to escape without guilt and walked quickly out of the room, aware that she had Derek to thank for her quick retreat (from the man himself) because he took the pain away from her leg. The one good thing about his surprise visit – beside the awesome pain sucking ability – was the weird restlessness she had all morning disappeared. 

Pain free, she decided to stick to her word and lay down, sleep taking her within minutes. 

Chiming from her phone woke Lucca. It took a moment to shake the sleep fog from her brain and another to realize she had a text message – an unusual occurrence as of late. Baffled by who was texting her she swiped at the screen yawning and saw it was Stiles. 

Stiles: What are you up to today? 

Lucca: Sleeping. You woke me up =( 

Stiles: SORRY! My bad. 

Lucca: * snort * it’s fine. Derek came by – which WEIRD – and drained my pain. It knocked me out. 

Stiles: Huh…that is weird. What’d he want? 

Lucca: To check on me I guess…? We sat in the awkwardest silence in history before I left (ran away). 

Stiles: Ah, yes. Mr. Broody. It’s like his default setting. Don’t pay it any attention. 

Lucca: So, does that mean he shows up at your house and sit with you in silence? 

Stiles: lol omg <> you have no idea.

Lucca: That’s a yes. I’m taking that as a resounding yes. 

She giggled to herself staring at the screen. Setting it down for a second, she maneuvered the pillows behind her back so they were propped up against the headboard and settled in. For the moment her ribs were still pain free and though she wanted to ask Stiles how long it lasted, she didn’t want to ruin the lighthearted atmosphere. 

Stiles: The stories I could tell you…and he can’t even blame that on wolfie instincts. That’s all him. 

Lucca: Your pack sounds ridiculous. 

Stiles: They ARE! No one appreciates my wit and snark. 

Lucca: * gasp * Ignorant fools. 

Stiles: Preach it sister! 

Lucca chuckled, a few tears escaping her eyes. More followed and she wiped at them impatiently. 

Stiles: Now that I’ve woken you up, wanna come over for dinner? My dad will actually be there for a change. 

She frowned at the second sentence. There was something there; sadness? Bitterness? Resignation? All three. Her memories of his dad were fuzzy. Out of uniform she probably wouldn’t recognize him, but she supposed that was the problem: his job. As the Sheriff, and with supernatural creatures running around, he must be incredibly busy and Stiles probably got neglected because of it. 

Lucca: What time? 

Stiles: Dinner’s at six. But you can come over any time. We could hang out. 

Lucca: Be over in about 30 mins. 

Stiles: Cool!

Stiles enthusiastic greeting when he opened the door reaffirmed her decision to come over. She didn’t know Stiles that well but she could already tell he’d never outright admit he was lonely. 

And tired. 

Heavy bags and dark shadows under his eyes were hard evidence of sleepless nights. She didn’t blame him either for having a difficult time sleeping after the mind fuckery the Nogitsune put him through. Plus, everything else… 

She smiled as he stepped back, running a hand though his messy brown hair and let her in. He looked casual in ratty jeans and a grey long sleeve t-shirt and it made her feel better about not changing out of her leggings and Nike hoodie. It had been too much effort at the time although, she did stuff her text books and laptop in her messenger bag on the off chance Stiles wanted to be productive and do homework. They did have half a day to burn through. 

She set her bag down at the foot of the couch and sunk into the cushion. There was a distinct line drawn where she could see Stiles gave up or lost interest in cleaning the room. 

“Don’t laugh at me!” he protested, noticing what captured her attention. “ADHD is no joke.” 

“I didn’t say anything,” she denied, hands up. 

He rolled his eyes and flopped down next to her on the couch. The cushions dipped them together but an inch of space still remained. 

“How you feeling today?” he wondered. 

“Not as tired,” she said, honestly. 

He bobbed his head. “That’s something.” 

Concern for him stole any further words. He looked so exhausted: physically, mentally, emotionally. The wariness pulled at his shoulders, hunching the forward; same with his bowed head. It didn’t matter that his foot tapped or his long fingers drummed against his thigh, he radiated fatigue. 

“You in the mood for a lazy day?” she asked. He needed one. 

“We don’t get lazy days anymore,” he admitted, scratching his cheek. “It feels like all our time is spent researching, planning, and fighting. Or recovering from injuries.” 

“Damn, you’re right. I’m recovering from injuries,” she muttered. His lips quirked up but she kept talking. “Which means I get a lazy day and I’m forcing you to as well.” 

His lips turned into a full smirk. “I guess you twisted my arm.” He set up a movie on the TV then asked, “Snacks?” 

“If you want.” 

He did a quick internal debate before disappearing to the kitchen reappearing a minute later with a few different snack options he set on the table but didn’t touch. Apparently he chose The Internship and Lucca let out a relieved sigh that he chose a non-romantic comedy that didn’t have raunchy humor. She didn’t think she could handle anything else. 

“You never really commented on the supernatural stuff,” Stiles ventured after about fifteen minutes of quiet movie watching. 

“Yeah.” She picked at a threat coming loose on her shirt. She could feel his eyes on her and caved, rolling her head so she could look at Stiles directly. “It wasn’t really shocking,” she admitted, worried how’d he take that admission when the supernatural had wrecked havoc on his life. 

His eyebrows shot up to his hairline. “Really?” 

She shrugged. “Fairytales, ghost stories, fantasy books and movies…it had to come from somewhere, right? I never doubted they were real. It was kinda like I was just waiting for it to be confirmed.” 

“Huh,” was all he said. 

The next twenty minutes they chatted idly, eyes still on the screen, though Stiles progressively got more fidgety and the space between them vanished with all his wiggling. He was lying on his back, his head nudging her thigh, and his long legs dangling over the sofa’s arm. It did not look comfortable. 

“Oh my god! Lay on you side, knees curled up, and put your head in my lap. You look so awkward!” she finally said, exasperated. 

He lifted his head looking at her sheepishly and got into position, letting out a relaxed sigh as he got comfortable. “Is this okay?” he asked, worry underlining his words. 

“Yes. Just watch the area around my stitches.” 

He reached out with his pale fingers and traced around her thigh looking for the spot beneath the fabric. Lucca had to fight against the urge to squirm as his fingers touched her leg. It was weird being touched like this. Not sexual, but intimate and just…different. 

Other than her parents, she wasn’t used to being touched. Her small group of friends in Colorado hadn’t been the touchy feely sort so it kind of blew her mind that Stiles’ entire hand could cover most of her leg. She knew she was petite, but it was one of those things were mentally she knew she was small compared to other people, but another to actually experience it. ,b. 

After an internal crisis about where to place her hand now that Stiles took up her entire left side, she tentatively lowered her hand so it rested on his head. Her fingers stroked the surprisingly soft strands of hair – for some reason she though boys wouldn’t have soft hair? – and felt him relax even further under her gentle ministrations. 

It didn’t take long before she saw his long lashes drift close and rest against the crest of his cheeks. If she hadn’t napped earlier she probably would have fallen asleep too. As it was, she settled in for the lazy day she demanded, Stiles a warm pressure in her lap and let her attention drift between abstract thoughts and whatever played across the TV. 

****

****

The change in breathing alerted Lucca to Stiles’ – she assumed – nightmare. With him pressed against her leg, she felt when his chest started rising quickly. His head jerked in her lap and his face scrunched in distress against the images in his mind. A soft moan escaped his lips, his leg twitching. 

Lucca continues to card her fingers through is hair but gently shook his shoulder with her other hand. “Stiles. Stiles. Hey, wake up.”

Jerking, he gasped, and rolled onto his back panting. Frantically his eyes darted around the room finally zeroing in on Lucca hovering above him uncertainly. She put a soothing hand on his cheek battling her own tears at his reaction. He may have been looking at her, but she didn’t think he was really present yet. His honey colored eyes were glazed and distant, his breathing still fast. 

The meticulous tapping of his fingers drew her attention to his hands splayed out against his stomach. Each finger pressed down like he was counting all ten of them. Each one accounted for had some of the tension seeping out of his body. He blinked, his eyes coming back into focus and gazed up at her looking scared and lost. 

Lucca bit her bottom lip as water pooled in her eyes and hovered at the brink of spilling over. Stiles twisted to his side, burying his face against her stomach. 

“That sucked,” he mumbled into her shirt. 

“Yeah,” she agreed, hugging him close. 

The worst part: Lucca knew this was a mild nightmare, one that barely started before she pulled him out of it. She didn’t know how he lived with it – with everything – on a daily basis. How the people in his life weren’t constantly cuddling and taking care of him. Even after only knowing him for a few days, all she wanted to do was hug Stiles until that haunted look left his eyes. Where the hell was his dad? His best friend? His pack/family? 

Allison and Aiden were killed, but Lucca didn’t understand how that didn’t bring everyone closer together. Instead they all drifted away, fighting their grief alone instead of with support from the only people who could understand their unusual circumstances. 

God, it made her so mad! 

They were being so stupid and selfish. Couldn’t they see they were hurting Stiles? That he was suffering more than all of them combined. 

She cradled him closer feeling a surge of protectiveness. 


	4. Trivia and Grief

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fun facts and grief with Stiles and Lucca.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just realized this chapter is on the shorter side. It really goes along with chapter 3 but then that would have been a giant chapter so I broke them up. Next week will also be a short chapter but with Jackson's POV! Also, if Lucca seems a little all over the place this chapter, it's supposed to be that way.

Stiles turned out to be a proficient cook. Lucca got a kick out of his amusement about her blatant lack of assistance in the meal preparations. Smiling, she sat at the kitchen table, her chin propped up on a hand and watched as he moved around the room assembling ingredients and chatting about random trivia.  


“Did you know if you stretched out our DNA it would be six feet long?” he asked.  


“Cars first got radios in the 1930s,” she replied.  


“Istanbul actually spans two continents. Asia and Europe.”  


“Bananas are curved because they grow towards the sun.”  


“Heart attacks are more likely to happen on a Monday.”  


“I knew there was a reason I didn’t like Mondays,” she mused.  


“As a health campaign, I think we should stop going to school on Mondays. For awareness purposes of course,” he stressed.  


Lucca nodded. “That sounds perfectly reasonable. It’s almost our civic duty,” she agreed.  


Stiles turned away from the stove, a wooden spoon still in his hand and looked at her curiously. “What are you doing about school since you’re traveling?”  


Sighing, she dropped her hand away from her chin and rolled her neck. “I’m doing online courses through my old high school that way my transcripts don’t get messed up. Once I settle, I’ll officially transfer to wherever I am.”  


Stiles turned back to the stove. A temporary silence fell over the kitchen and Lucca had to work up the nerve to broach the topic she wanted to discuss. If she wanted to ask today it would have to be soon. Swallowing a few times, she wet her lips then asked, “Are things with your dad…bad?” She winced at the way that came out. The picture she was getting from the small snippets of conversation and subtext was a stressed, lopsided relationship, but that could have been her imagination. What did she really know?  


Stiles didn’t answer and didn’t turn around. She eyed the broad expanse of his shoulders and back and battled against the sinking sensation in her stomach that she crossed a line.  


“I’d have to tell you about my mom for you to really understand,” he finally spoke, his voice soft. She almost couldn’t hear him over the sound of the chicken and veggies sizzling in the skillet. The feeling in her stomach solidified into a heavy stone, and the anticipation of a sad story almost made her back out.  


She didn’t want to hear about anymore sadness.  


But she didn’t say anything and Stiles started talking, his voice monotone and distant as he retold the story about his mother’s slow deterioration as she forgot her family; her inevitable death. How without her his dad completely broke and it didn’t matter that he still had a child to take care of. He wallowed in his grief and booze and then as time went on buried himself in his work.  


“He helped so many people that I couldn’t complain. And for a while things were okay. Maybe even good. But then all the supernatural stuff starting happening and I started lying because,” he shot her a look, “Werewolves. And then the truth eventually came out and I was possessed and murdered half his department and an entire wing at the hospital and then I was dying and finally, finally things have settled down but they can’t go back to the way they were, y’know?”  


He turned off the stove and sat heavily at the table.  


“He’s the only family I have left,” he murmured after a minute.  


Lucca grimaced in sympathy, finally understanding why Stiles would forgive his dad for being a bad parent. The aching hole in her chest she’d been working so hard to ignored pulsed in recognition of his loss. She couldn’t decide which was worse: losing her parents suddenly or watching a slow death. Lucca had always been a rip the Band-Aid off type of girl so a prolonged sickness sounded horrible she decided.  


The kitchen suddenly felt empty, the walls resounding with what they no longer had. Her chest throbbed and her breath caught in her throat. The ever ready tears in her eyes bubbled up and she vicious willed them back; she didn’t want to cry any more.  


“If you lift a kangaroo’s tail off the ground it can’t hop,” she mumbled, mentally cursing that her voice wavered and still sounded like she was about to cry.  


Her eyes were firmly fixed on the grain pattern on the wooden table so she couldn’t tell, but Stiles’ voice sounded similar when he replied, “Yeah?”  


Nodding and still not looking up, she told him, “You can’t snore and dream at the same time.”  


“I’m gonna have to find a way to make myself snore then,” Stiles muttered, forlorn.  


Lucca’s eyes flickered up to look at his face. It didn’t help the battle with her tears. The kitchen lights made the gauntness in his face stand out in sharp relief – all hollow angles and deep shadows. Grief and sadness cloaked him like a shroud. The misery and loneliness seemed to radiate from the walls and Lucca couldn't decide if it was Stiles affecting the house or the other way around.  


Lucca felt like she was going to jump out of her skin she was so uncomfortable. The sorrowful emotions were pressing in from all sides suffocating her with their oppressive energy. Wordlessly, she stood up, nose and lips twitching at the discomfort in her leg and chest, and walked out the backdoor. The first breath of fresh air flooded her system bringing sweet relief.  


Stiles’ backyard was large and empty, butting up against the nature preserve. The grass was overgrown but the gentle breeze and the smell of earth, grass, and pine went a long way towards soothing her nerves. With each breath, her frayed nerves calmed and her equilibrium return.  


“Stiles, come here,” she called.  


A moment later he appeared at her side.  


“Take off your shoes,” she ordered, doing the same and relishing in the feel of cool grass against her bare feet.  


“Why?” he asked, lips quirking but obeying none the less peeling off his converses.  


She looked at him. “Don’t laugh, okay?” When he nodded she said, “We’re going to feel the earth. It’ll help ground us.”  


Stiles looked dubious, but standing barefoot in his backyard wasn’t exactly strenuous. Lucca watched him, searching for minute signs that it was helping. She wasn’t expecting a miracle or anything, but this was something her dad always did with her when she felt overwhelmed and stressed. They’d go outside, plant their bare feet firmly in the ground and breath deeply, letting all the negative emotions drain into the earth and take its vitality and sturdiness in turn.  


“Do you feel better?” she asked, hopefully.  


“I guess. Maybe a little?” he shrugged. They gathered up their socks and shoes and went back inside. Lucca suspected he was just humoring her. The Sheriff showed up in uniform not long after and she watched as he sat down and Stiles immediately served the food without prompting.  


“How are you feeling, Lucca?” he asked.  


Furious that you’re neglecting your traumatized son. “Better,” she replied. “Thanks, Stiles,” she muttered, touching his arm gently as he finally sat.  


He nodded absently, picking half heartedly at his own food.  


“And you’re,” he paused, “adjusting to the supernatural element?” he questioned.  


She nodded, getting the impression that he had a hard time accepting it. Still had a hard time accepting it.  


The rest of dinner dragged. The conversation felt stilted and forced, neither Lucca or Stiles having much to say to the Sheriff who didn’t seem to notice and left the table as soon as he was done eating claiming fatigue.  


Lucca felt murderous and drilled holes into his head with her eyes as he retreated to the living room.  


“Lucca,” Stiles chided, softly.  


She turned to him, blood boiling, face flushed with her outrage. Her mouth opened but nothing came out as she wordlessly gestured towards the door.  


“Hey, hey,” he soothed, wrapping her into a big hug.  


That’s when she noticed she was crying, almost unable to hear her own sobs over the pounding of her heart and the resulting rushing blood.  


“My dad’s gone,” she wailed into his shoulder. “He’s gone. I can’t have dinner with him. I can’t fight with him. There’s no one left. They’re all dead!”  


“I know,” he mumbled against her head. “I know.” He squeezed her tighter, trying to hold all the broken pieces together as she sobbed.  


It had been such an emotionally exhausting day. She didn’t have the strength to weather the giant waves of grief crashing over her relentlessly and out of no where. She’d been handling it. Feeling the sadness, the gaping loss, but not being crippled by it. But now…if Stiles wasn’t holding her…  


Her chest hurt. Her throat hurt. Snot and tears were slipping into her mouth and all over Stiles’ shirt. He was the only thing keeping her on her feet and not in a ball on the floor. The world became incoherent and when she came back to her senses, she was curled up in Stiles’ lap, chest feeling hollow and her breathing hiccupping every few seconds.  


Stiles was rubbing a soothing hand along her arm, not speaking, but keeping a firm grasp on her. She wanted to apologize for freaking out on him like that, but speaking seemed like an unbearable task at the moment. So did moving even though she knew Stiles couldn’t be comfortable sitting on the kitchen floor with his back pressed up against the cabinets.  


Letting out a shuddering breath, Lucca tried to gather herself. It always left her uneasy when she lost time like that; she had no idea how long she’d been crying. The world could have ended and she wouldn’t have known about it.  


“Sleepy time?” Stiles asked, voice quiet. He didn’t make any motion to move them.  


She nodded, throat feeling too swollen to talk.  


“Here or do you want to go back to the B&B?”  


Lucca mulled over his question not wanting to move at all as exhaustion set in. In the long run she’d be more comfortable at the B&B so that’s what she croaked out as her decision. Stiles accepted her answer with nothing more than a concerned look and wordlessly helped her to her Jeep. There was no goodbye hug this time as she crawled into the vehicle and somehow made it safely to the Inn in an exhausted daze. She collapsed onto her bed and let oblivion pull her under. 

Lucca established a routine of sorts for herself over the next few days. Breakfast she’d spend with Maryann and her current guest/s if there were any, then spend the morning doing school work. Depending on how tired or antsy she felt she’d go out for lunch, explore the town, walk the trails in the public part of the preserve. The evenings were reserved for relaxing and being lazy.  


Throughout the day she’d text with Stiles on and off. Nothing important. He liked to give her a running commentary on the things that happened at school. It was weird but nice hearing about normal teenage drama after the past two and a half months of her life. Stiles and his friends must have felt the same way, like they were living double lives.


	5. Stranger on the Trails

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jackson and Lucca meet! Jackson and Stiles' feels.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, kind of late posting today, but it's still technically Tuesday so it counts. Starting next week, I will be switching my posting day to Wednesday. I also had an awesome conversation with a friend tonight that totally motivated me to start working on my novel again. I'm a great multi-tasker so I will try my best to keep this story updating weekly. However, if that doesn't happen... well you'll all know why. 
> 
> Thanks for reading :D

It was the one of two days of the week where they didn’t have Lacrosse practice or a game and Jackson felt restless. The wolf in him prowled relentlessly under his skin just waiting for an outlet or for something to happen. Lydia told him he was experiencing hypervigilance after all the traumatizing events of the past year. He didn’t care if it had a term, he just hated the agitated energy rippling through his bloodstream.  


Things had been unusually calm the past few weeks and that didn’t sit well with him, so he patrolled the woods and got in a workout at the same time. The constant whoosh of greenery as he ran soothed his mind like little else did. There was something about running that melted away thoughts as his lungs worked rhythmically and his legs and arms moved in tandem.  


After an hour, once sweat dotted his back, his movements slowed as he neared the public trails that skirted the vast preserve. He stepped onto the trail, walking to cool down, and just breathed, letting all his heightened senses catalog everything absently. It wasn’t long till noticed the sound of a steady heart beat up ahead and then the scent of black cherries and the smell of the wind off a frozen lake drifted towards him.  


Jackson was in that ambiguous state where he couldn’t decide if he’d mind company or not. Then he reasoned that at his current pace he’d overtake whoever it was quickly and he wouldn’t have to worry about it. As he rounded a bend he blinked in surprise when he saw a girl around his age in black running joggers and a blue tank top that said Coffee & Cardio. Her honey brown hair was pulled into a pony tail and she wore Nike running shoes. Cocking his head to the side, he listened to her breathing and noted it was slightly labored, but she was walking leisurely with a steady heart rate and despite her attire, didn’t appear to have done anything more than walk.  


There wasn’t a good reason for him to be surprised or curious about her presence; people walked and jogged on these trails all the time. But there was…something that made him draw up besides her and unconsciously decided to keep pace with her. She peered over at him, wary amusement clear on her freckled face, and silently accepted his presence without breaking stride.  


Despite having another person beside him, he was able to sink into his relaxed post-run haze. It was actual nice: he had company but it wasn’t intrusive like most people’s presence. It almost felt like pact was supposed to feel.  


After fifteen minutes of walking the packed dirt path his curiosity grew. He eyed his walking companion critically. She had a runners build with strong muscled thighs and butt and a graceful fluidity that came from habit, and yet, that shallow breathing persisted despite their slow walk.  


“Are you injured?” he asked.  


Her eyes flickered to him. “Why do you ask?” Her tone was neutral, but he felt the caution behind her words.  


It surprised him that she’d be wary of him when he was accustomed to his peers fawning over him for one reason or another. And her question stumped him for a moment – it’s not like he could say he heard it.  


“You just seem like you’d rather be running if you could,” he reasoned.  


She sucked in her bottom lip as if contemplating his observation. “Bruised ribs,” she answered after awhile.  


Irrational worry shot through him for her well being. He scanned her again looking for other injuries, but clothing covered everything except for her arms which were clear. His eyes glanced over the sweat bands on her wrists before coming back to them; that could be something.  


Jackson had to shake himself. Why’d he even care? Just because bruised ribs were an unusual injury didn’t mean anything. Could have been a car accident or something. Resolutely, he decided it mattered if a stranger was hurt. It wasn’t his problem and it wasn’t his concern.  


“And you’re out here walking anyway,” he commented.  


She frowned at him. If she had hackles Jackson could picture them raising. “Yeah,” she drawled defensively.  


Raising his hands in surrender, he said, “I think that’s great.”  


She side eyed him, not quite ready to believe him and he couldn’t stop the pleased smirk from spreading across his face. Aside from Lydia, Cora, and Erica– and they were so aggressive – girls didn’t act that way towards him. It was refreshing.  


Facing forward again, she kept walking, apparently uninterested in talking to him. Still feeling ridiculously pleased by the whole situation, Jackson walked in silence with her all the way to the public parking lot where he said a casual ‘bye’ and climbed into his Porsche. His inner wolf finally felt settled and he drove home happy his run helped his agitation. 

  


Friday morning, he stood with Lydia at her locker as she was talking about some mathematical theorem that was just published. Usually he tried to follow along even though he didn’t understand three fourth of the things she said, but he caught sight of Stiles briefly in the crowd and it set him on edge. The spaz looked horrible. Worse than his usual sleep deprived look.  


He let out a sub-vocal growl when the warning bell rang and he didn’t have a chance to go after Stiles before class. They shared Chemistry and economics together, but between Mr. Harris and Coach Finstock, there was no opportunity to talk. Grumpily, he settled for shooting him a quick text asking if he was alright and what happened. It annoyed him that he didn’t get a reply until the next break between classes, especially since Stiles had been glued to his phone lately. The annoyance melted away when he read Stiles message.  


Stiles: The usual nightmares. Had two panic attacks. I’m fine now.  


Jackson clenched his jaw. That shouldn’t be normal and Stiles shouldn’t be so blasé about it.  


Jackson: Why didn’t you call me? Did you call Derek?  


Stiles: I called someone. I didn’t want to disturb you.  


Jackson pondered his reply, wondering who he called. If it had been Derek or someone in the pack, he would have said so. And where the hell was this ‘I didn’t want to disturb you’ crap coming from? That was not how pack worked. That was not how friends worked. It may have taken him a while to adjust to pack life and getting used the weird jumble of people Derek turned – plus Scott, Kira, Cora, and Stiles – but now they meant everything, even if he didn’t show it all the time.  


Jackson: Don’t be a dumbass. You can always call me.  


Stiles: Thanks, Jackson.  


Feeling a little more satisfied, he put his phone away and focused on the rest of his morning classes. Come lunch though, he scowled as everyone assembled at their table in the cafeteria except for Stiles and Isaac. Scott and Kira were off in their own little world like usual. Cora was mindlessly eating and ignoring everyone. Lydia and Erica were discussing something with Boyd dutifully listening and no one seemed to notice the absence of two of their pack.  


Irritation faded away to fondness and appreciation when he saw Isaac patiently shadowing a slow moving Stiles as they entered the cafeteria. Jackson never though he’d miss the spaztic movements and high energy Stiles used to have, but watching the sluggish pace he moved at now, the stillness of his arms, the hollowed out look of his face, he did. He definitely did.  


The two of them sat down silently, Boyd the only other one to notice and Jackson felt his disgust for the packs behavior rise again. They were barely a pack. A pack in name only because they sure didn’t act like it.  


Jackson slid the food he got for Stiles in front of him and nodded at Stiles grateful look. While Stiles picked at the food he met Isaac’s concerned look.


	6. No Means No

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucca meets the full pack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is on time yay! 
> 
> I've been super busy lately. I was promoted about a month ago, just toured and signed a lease on a new apartment, and my boss just went on maternity leave so I've been promoted again to fill in for her which wasn't the plan - but apparently I was really confident so upper-upper management decided I was their girl :)
> 
> So moral of the story y'all: be confident!

Lucca’s lips twitched in amused when Stiles plopped down on the loveseat next to her at the B&B like he owned this place. She loved his shamelessness. He gave her a saucy grin and ignored her personal space to look at her laptop screen.  


His eyebrows rose in surprise and glanced at her. “You’re staying?” he asked.  


Her mind went blank for a second with his face so close and his ember eyes peering at her hopefully. She’d been around attractive guys at home, but there was something unique about Stiles, something she could spend hours looking at. The long-term fatigue evident on his face made her sad though.  


“Yeah.”  


“In the town that has a beacon calling to supernatural monsters? This town?” he wanted to clarify, still in disbelief.  


She shrugged then wrinkled her nose at the ache it caused in her ribs. It had been a week since the injury and she wasn’t sure when it would stop hurting if it took three to four weeks to heal.  


Stiles mouth fell open and she couldn’t help the giggle at his expression. Reaching over, she gently pressed up on his jaw closing his mouth with a snap.  


He shook his head, apparently clearing his mind as he exclaimed, “That’s awesome!” He punched up with a fist then look at her screen with actual interest now scanning the apartments she was looking at. “Not that one,” he pointed. “This one is good. That one is in a good location but I’ve heard bad things about the tenants. Really, you’re looking at those too?”  


Somehow in the matter of fifteen minutes they had it narrowed down to three places and Stiles invited himself to tour them with her tomorrow. Come mid-morning, when they agreed to meet at the first location, she raised an eyebrow in speculation as two other vehicles and a bike pulled in directly after Stiles, whom looked sheepish as he stumbled out of his jeep and made his way over to her as varies other people exited their cars.  


“So… I may have mentioned it to Derek last night that you decided to stay and we were apartment hunting today,” he began, hands stuffed in his pant pockets and rocking back on his heels.  


“And?” she prompted as she saw an attractive curly haired blonde exit the Camaro with Derek and a girl with a strong resemblance to him. A blonde girl wrapped around a black guy followed as did a dark brunette guy with a crooked jaw and a cute Asian girl from the dirt bike. Finally, a gorgeous redhead stepped out of a shiny Porsche she recognized from the other day with the guy who walked with her.  


Stiles grimaced, looking apologetic. “The pack overheard and wanted to come.”  


“Why?” she asked puzzled.  


“ _That _is a good question,” Stiles agreed, shooting a menacing look at the group of people behind him.  
__

__The redhead tossed her hair saying, “This will be good practice for us after next year. And I’ll be a big help.”  
_ _

__“Derek wanted to come. It made me curious,” the blonde girl said and almost everyone else nodded in agreement.  
_ _

__Lucca sighed.  
_ _

__“Sorry,” Derek muttered, coming closer so she could hear.  
_ _

__She eyed the man, taking in the perfectly sculpted stubble along his jaw, the green of his eyes, the casual way he stood in fitted jeans and a plain white t-shirt. She still didn’t know what to make of the him. His interest was confusing, but she could understand why the rest of the pack would be curious at their alpha’s interest.  
_ _

__Lucca’s attention moved to the rest of the group. From everything Stiles had told her she could figure out who everyone was based on looks and the way they grouped themselves. Her eyes met Jackson’s and felt the mutual curiosity and confusion they both had for the other – which answered her question if he’d known who she was when they ran into each other a few days ago.  
_ _

__“This will be interesting,” she mumbled under her breathe and headed to the apartment complex’s main office to find the manger, a pack of supernatural creatures following her.  
_ _

__Even without Lydia and Erica’s criticism of the second floor apartment Lucca wouldn’t have gotten it. It took her about ten seconds to decide then impatiently waited while the pack spread out to canvas the space, poking their noses into every nook and cranny. She sent Stiles a look who made an apologetic face at her again. Derek must have noticed the interaction because he came over.  
_ _

__“Just say the word and I’ll have them out of here,” he offered.  
_ _

__Lucca considered his words, trying to sort out how she was feeling about the entire situation. It was weird. She wished there was another person not in the pack to collaborate with her about the weirdness. Random people didn’t invite themselves to apartment shop with a stranger.  
_ _

__“Is it foolishly optimistic to think they’ll get it out of their system with this apartment?” she wondered.  
_ _

__Stiles snorted. “Yes.”  
_ _

__Derek glared at him, but didn’t verbally disagree.  
_ _

__Lucca sighed again, shifting in place, attention going to Lydia and Erica who were arguing down the hall about the bathroom. Isaac, or who she assumed was Isaac until he came over and introduced himself formally with a dimpled smile, stood next to her with his head cocked in curiosity.  
_ _

__She raised her eyebrows and waited for him to speak. Eventually, he just shrugged and stayed silent. Exasperation flared in her and she went to the small balcony to get away from the wolves. The fresh air was a relief after the poor circulation and stale smell from inside. Irritation and exasperation were already waring in her when she felt someone join her and she had to bite down on the rush of jumbled emotions threatening to explode.  
_ _

__Just because she slept badly and was in pain wasn’t an excuse to let her feelings overpower her. Just like her dad used to tell her. She just needed to get a grip. It was her body, her mind. She was in control.  
_ _

__But all she wanted to do was curl up on her dad’s lap like she used to when things felt too overwhelming.  
_ _

__She didn’t want to be dealing with a pack of werewolves.  
_ _

__She didn’t want to be looking for a new home.  
_ _

__She wanted her parents back!  
_ _

__Gentle hands moved her away from the glass door and out of sight from those inside. A bitter part of her wondered why bother when they could all hear her anyway; use her chemo-signals to tell just how badly she was handling everything.  
_ _

__Looking up, Lucca met the blue eyes of Jackson. Something about his presence made her lips wobble as she pressed them together in an attempt to keep from crying out. Already tears were pooling in her eyes, dangerously on the verge of tipping over and running down her cheeks.  
_ _

__“Breathe, Lucca,” he commanded, softly.  
_ _

__That’s when she realized she’d been holding her breath. The pressure eased and worked towards soothing her nerves as she gulped in lungful’s of oxygen.  
_ _

__“Better?” he inquired, speaking quietly.  
_ _

__Nodding, she wiped carefully at her eyes trying to minimize any damage tearing up had caused on her mascara. Only minimal black streaked her fingers so she took it as a good sign.  
_ _

__“Sorry,” she murmured.  
_ _

__Jackson shrugged looking off towards the small lawn between apartment buildings. She appreciated his nonchalance about her little freak out.  
_ _

__“This apartment is awful. Why were you even considering it?”  
_ _

__There was the douchey, condescending tone Stiles warned her about.  
_ _

__“We were _supposed _to be looking at one of their newly renovated units. I’m pretty sure the apartment managers took one look at me and decided to charge me the renovated price for this piece of crap.”  
_ _ __

__

__“Asshole,” Jackson muttered.  
_ _

__Lucca snorted. “There isn’t a single thing about this apartment that met the requirements I explicitly listed on the phone with the manager.” She shook her head. “Come on,” she encouraged heading for the door. “Let’s round up the Scooby Doo Gang and get out of here.”  
_ _

__“The next place better at least be decent. I don’t want to waste my day looking at hovels,” he complained, a step behind her.  
_ _

__Derek was already summoning Lydia and Erica from the bedroom and herding everyone towards the door. Werewolf hearing. She ignored everyone as she headed back to her jeep and only paused outside her door when she noticed Isaac was reaching for the passengers’ door.  
_ _

__“No.”  
_ _

__He gave her that dimpled smile that lit up his entire face. “Awww, come on. Buddy system.”  
_ _

__“Go be Stiles’ buddy,” she retorted, nodding towards the blue jeep and its empty passenger seat.  
_ _

__“I want a new buddy,” Isaac explained.  
_ _

__“No.”  
_ _

__What the hell was with these people? Did being part wolf completely wipe out their sense of personal boundaries? Social cues? Listening skills?  
_ _

__He jiggled the door handle, pouting when he found it locked. Lucca crossed her arms and refused to budge. Jackson drew her attention away from Isaac. He was across the parking lot talking to the apartment manager. Werewolf hearing would be convenient but she could tell from the body language that Jackson was mad and the manager was irritated.  
_ _

__“Jackson is accusing him of trying to take advantage of you and lying,” Isaac narrated helpfully. “And now he’s throwing a bunch of legal terms at him about misrepresentation and prejudice.”  
_ _

__A warm feeling curled up in Lucca’s chest._ _

____

The second apartment was much nicer as everyone pointed out as if it weren’t obvious. Lucca rolled her eyes at them as they commented on the fitness center, indoor pool, and lounge room. The entire complex looked like an upscale hotel.  


“You don’t seem impressed,” Lydia accused, her eyes narrowed at Lucca.  


Lucca did not like the judgement coming her way. The pack was giving her a headache with their constant chatter and lack of boundaries.  


“It’s a great apartment,” she said, only halfheartedly trying to appease the redhead. “If I don’t like the last place I’ll probably get it.”  


“Well then let’s go. I don’t need any more of my time wasted,” Jackson announced heading for the door. Someone muttered something that sounded like ‘douchecanoe’ but Lucca happily followed Jackson out of the apartment while the rest of the pack grumbled about how they just got there.  


Erica and Boyd stood at the passenger side of her Jeep looking expectant.  


Lucca gritted her teeth. “No.”  


Erica sent her a winning smile that Lucca was not swayed by. “It’ll be more fun then driving by yourself,” Erica promised.  


“No,” Lucca shook her head. She was so done with these people. She was two seconds away from canceling the whole thing and going back to the B&B to nap. The headache on top of the rib pain had cut her tolerance down to nothing.  


“Lucca….” Erica whined.  


“Derek, get them away from my car!” she snapped, feeling her heartrate jump. Adrenaline surged with a well of emotion at the oncoming confrontation. She hated confrontation! But she couldn’t deal with this anymore. She was just…done.  


Suddenly the entire pack moved around her car, Derek and Stiles coming to stand next to her. Erica rolled her eyes and cocked a hand on her hip.  


“Really? You’re gonna have a freak out and tattle to Derek?”  


“Erica…” Derek growled in warning.  


Looking unapologetic, Erica shrugged with so much attitude she didn’t need to say a word.  


It was the last straw for Lucca. “What the fuck is wrong with you people?” she shouted, voice hurting from the volume. 

“You came here UNIVITED to look at apartments with a complete STRANGER! This is not some fun excursion where you all get to play house! I’m here because I don’t have a family. I don’t have a home anymore! This isn’t a game.”  


Tears were suddenly falling down her cheeks but Lucca ignored them. Ignored the way her entire body was shaking from the emotions that felt like they were suffocating her.  


“We didn’t know,” Erica muttered, looking uncomfortable but still not apologetic.  


Lucca ignored the soothing hand Stiles had on her arm. Ignored the way he was practically holding her body up in favor of skewering Erica with her eyes. “So you need to know someone’s sad backstory to be a decent person and respect personal boundaries?”  


Erica’s eyes glowed yellow for a second and she opened her mouth to reply when Derek stepped in. “Everyone go home.”  


“Seriously, Derek?” Erica gasped. “You’re going to take her side? She’s not even part of the pack!”  


Derek sent her a level stare. “Which makes it odd that you’re here, don’t you think?”  


“Oh my God!” she shouted in frustration, throwing her hands up. “All this because the little princess wouldn’t give us a ride?”  


Derek’s face turned thunderous. Lucca retreated a step, stumbling into Stiles to get away from the anger she felt a physical force. In her chest, her rate rate tripled in anxious anticipation of what Derek would do. And it wasn’t just Lucca, all the wolves except Erica hunched their shoulders at their alpha’s anger and inconspicuously bared their throats.  


“It’s about consent,” Derek growled. “And respecting their decision when someone says ‘no’.”  


“Lucca,” Stiles whispered.  


She almost didn’t hear him over the blood roaring in her ears. Tears blurred her vision to the point where everything looked like a messy blob of color. Her teeth were chattering with the force of her shaking.  


“Lucca,” Stiles repeated, worry thick in his voice.  


She couldn’t see Erica opened her mouth again, but she heard Cora chime in. “Give it a rest, Erica. Not everything is about you.”  


There was silence for a beat then the angry clip clop of heels that announced Erica’s departure.  


“Lucca.”  


This time it was Derek speaking her name with concern.  


She still couldn’t see clearly so she closed her wet eyelids and sucked in a shuddering breath. In her mind she pictured a wall full of neat boxes, each one with their own cubby. Several had popped out of place and one by one, she pushed them back in, each time her shaking lessened, the tears slowed, her heart calmed down till the wall was once again smooth and she didn’t feel out of control.  


Sighing, she opened her eyes to find most of the pack retreating to varies vehicles. Scott and Kira; Boyd and Erica; Isaac and Cora. Lydia was watching shrewdly as Derek and Stiles hovered, however, Jackson stood pretending to be oblivious like it was pure coincidence he was at the same place as them.  


Some part of her buried deep found that funny. Suddenly she understood how Stiles could rag on Jackson for being an ass with fondness in his voice which had seemed like such a paradox before.  


She let another exhale clear away the lingering tension coiled in her stomach. The shakiness that accompanied an intense outburst like that remained, but she didn’t feel like exploding now.  


“How’d you do that?” Stiles asked, awe and curiosity on his face. “Calm down so quickly,” he explained at her confused look.  


“Oh. Umm…” She didn’t want to admit she’d been seeing a therapist since she was young and that was one of the visuals they created to help her manage her emotions. They built a couple, but something about a wall of perfectly fitted boxes, all in their proper place soothed her the best. It was easy to see which box was out of place and then shut it away.  


Conceding to at least a partial truth since they were all looking at her curiously, she mumbled, “Do you know what a memory palace is?” When she got varies nods she continued. “It’s sort of like that except it’s a visual exercise I use to calm down.”  


Stiles’ head was cocked to the side, staring at her to the point where she fidgeted uncomfortably in place.  


“Sorry about Erica,” Derek apologized and Lucca breathed in relief at the distraction.  


“You can’t control other people.” It was something she’d been told a lot growing up.  


Derek shook his head and Lucca supposed it could be different with werewolves. Maybe an alpha could control his pack; she didn’t know much about the dynamics.  


“Are we looking at the last place or what?” Jackson asked, seemingly fed up with all of them.  


Lucca was liking Jackson more by the minute.  


The last place had Lucca willing to sign a lease before she even stepped a foot inside. Technically, they were considered townhomes, but they looked more like cute little brick cottages that just happened to be in close proximity to each other. They even had miniature yards with black gates and a paved walkway to the front door.  


The manager, a trim guy in his thirties who’s name she forgot instantly, unlocked the door for them and started his spiel about the features until Derek glared at him and his words tampered off into silence. Lydia also seemed to have learned her lesson and kept her comments to herself despite the critical eye she cast around the space.  


The entry way quickly opened up into a spacious living room. The modern kitchen was set to the left with a dining room framed by large window. A quick walk around showed two bedrooms on the ground floor; the master suite with a walk-in closet and attached full bath. The second level had another bedroom, bathroom, and a small office. There was also a large storage space in an attic that really could be converted into a small loft space if wanted.  


“I’ll take it,” Lucca said as the group that had been following her came to a stop back in the living room.  


The manager looked at her confused. “You’ll take it?”  


“Yeah…?”  


The manager looked to Derek then back at Lucca. Sighing, Lucca resigned herself that this reaction was probably going to be common for a few years. Reaching into her tan leather bag, she pulled out a folder of paperwork the people at her parents’ law firm prepared for her. It had everything from her emancipation forms to bank statements that showed she could afford the rent.  


Wordlessly she handed them over and watched as Aaron – she finally remembered his name – looked them over, his eyebrows jerking up in surprise at the information. He nodded. “We can sign the lease in my office.”  


“Are you sure about this?” Stiles asked, following them out and across the parking lot to the manager’s office. “You didn’t even spend five minutes looking at it.”  


“Don’t need to,” she shrugged.  


“That’s how you know it’s the right one,” Lydia agreed knowingly, hooking her arm with Lucca. “If you’re indecisive it’s obviously a no.”  


Lydia made her nervous for a moment when she caught her looking at the thick bracelets around her wrists; worried that she would see the marks from being tied up, but then reasoned she was probably just checking out her accessories. When Lydia’s eyes went to her long necklace and bag she felt even more certain and relaxed.  


“You’ll need furniture, correct?” Lydia asked.  


Jackson snorted and both girls glanced at him. “She just wants to go shopping,” he answered.  


“Nothing wrong with shopping,” Lucca replied. She may or may not have a bad shopping habit. One her mother did nothing to discourage. The thought sent a jolt of pain to her chest so she forced herself to think of something else. “I sold the house fully furnished so yeah, I will need new furniture.”  


“Great!” Lydia chirped. “We’ll go tomorrow?” she asked.  


Lucca hung her head and wondered if this situation would be considered wisdom for resigning or just plain old defeat.


	7. The Pack Goes to IKEA

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek's point of view on their shopping trip.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two weeks late...sorry. The new jobs has literally taken over my life.

Derek didn’t know how this was happening. It was the very definition of insanity. He kept shooting looks at Lucca, waiting for a reaction similar to yesterdays as the pack goofed off around them lead by a determined Lydia. Furniture shopping was not how he wanted to spend his Sunday, but he was responsible for the pack and he owed it to Lucca to reign them in. Judging from the look on her face, Lucca didn’t want to be shopping either – or maybe it was just the repeat of yesterday that had her unhappy.  


He could smell the exhaustion on her, see it on her face. It made his wolf whine in displeasure and pull all his protective instincts to the surface. He didn’t know if it was Lucca herself that caused the reaction or just the circumstance in which they met and her personal history. Either way, it disgruntled him that he felt he had to protect her from his own pack; a fundamentally wrong feeling.  


There was something about her though that had the pack taking notice. It started with Stiles: an immediate mutual connection he couldn’t phantom between the two of them. Jackson confessed he met her briefly earlier in the week and that she seemed cool: high praise from him. Lydia acknowledged her fashion sense and spirit. Cora found her hilarious. Isaac seemed smitten – although Derek didn’t know how when he spoke a total of three short sentences to her. Kira, Scott, and Boyd didn’t say too much other than a general ‘she seems nice’. Erica spent a good portion of the evening ranting about the car thing so that went well.  


He could admit he started it, that his need to figure her out sparked everyone’s interest. It was why he was including himself in her plans and allowing the pack to tag along even though it clearly made Lucca unhappy.  


Lydia decided they needed to start in the kitchen and kept his amusement to himself when he noticed Lucca’s new strategy to dealing with the pack. She apparently had a list of things she wanted/needed because she assigned different pack members to bring her said things and vetoed or approved their choices. If she liked it, she’d scan it with a remote an employee gave her when she explained that she was furnishing an entire house today and wanted everything shipped together and as soon as possible.  


“Do you even have money for all this stuff?” Isaac asked, looking doubtful after she spoke to the employee.  
She stared at him for a second, her face impassive, but succinctly answered, “Yes,” and walked away to set up an app that would let her track everything she scanned.  


Apparently despite Lucca’s reluctance to be shopping, she had no trouble coordinating and consulting with Lydia. He tuned them out for the most part, listening just enough to be impressed with Lucca for keeping up with Lydia and standing her ground about what she did and did not want. Equally surprising, Lydia seemed to respect her for it. As did Jackson who smirked at Lucca with approval as she ordered the pack around – he, of course, not helping.  


Lucca marched them through the giant store so quickly and efficiently it made Derek wonder why it was men were always generals in wars when women were clearly more suited to the task. He even allowed himself a few moments of optimism that 

the trip was going to be incident free.  


He should have known better.  


And really, he didn’t understand how so many little unrelated things could line up leading to one particular event. He didn’t think anything of it when Stiles and Lucca sat down on a couch to test out how comfortable it was. Isaac flung himself down next to Lucca jarring both her and Stiles. The movements hurt Lucca judging by her grimace and gasp and the way her hand reflexively covered her ribs.  


Derek was just about to open his mouth to scold Isaac and demand he be more careful when Erica shouted, “Puppy pile,” and flung herself across their laps with Boyd, Cora, and Scott right behind her, squishing everyone beneath them under a tower of bodies.  


For a split second Derek felt his heart stop. Then he was grabbing fistfuls of clothes and throwing bodies off the couch uncaring where they landed or if anyone saw. Things vaguely registered in the background: the packs protests, Jackson’s growl, Stiles gasping for breath after having his lungs compressed; but his attention zeroed in on Lucca who wasn’t breathing at all.  


Her heart raced out of control and her chest spazmed like a seizure victim, yet no air moved in or out of her parted lips which were already taking on a blue tinge. The scent of pain and panic overwhelmed him, made it impossible to think for a moment. The pain on her face was just as frozen as her lungs; stuck in a contorted expression that didn’t belong on a teenage girl. Thankfully, his body reacted despite of his mind sputtering because suddenly his hands were on her arms sucking away the pain.  


“Breathe, Lucca,” Jackson urged, crouching next to Derek. He grabbed her hands tightly, also draining the pain, a look of concern so sincere and intense on his face he looked like a different person.  


Lucca gasped and coughed as her lungs flooded with oxygen. She curled in on herself, tears streaming down her pale cheeks. Each desperate inhale sounded like a painful wheeze, so quick paced Derek feared she would pass out from hyperventilating instead of a lack of air.  


Even at the best of times he wasn’t very colloquial so he continued to silently syphon away her pain while Jackson coached her through breathing properly. Stiles joined in, gently uncurling her hunched shoulders so she could sit without restricting her airflow.  


“Sorry. Sorry,” she mumbled, shaking off Jackson’s hands so she could wipe at her wet face.  


“That was not your fault,” Jackson growled again, eyes flickering supernaturally blue for a second.  


Derek could smell the guilt and remorse emanating from her and couldn’t comprehend why.  


She nodded despite nothing on her face showing she agreed with the statement. “I need a minute,” she muttered, voice wavering. Untangling herself from Stiles and Jackson, she stood up and sidestepped Derek.  


“Lucca...” Stiles protested, also standing.  


“I just need a minute,” she repeated and walked off, the pack parting like the red sea for her to pass. She only paused long enough to nod gratefully at Lydia who handed her a packet of make-up wipes from her purse.  


Derek followed her progress down the long aisle until she turned a corner then tracked her by heartbeat till he was sure she ended up in the bedding department.  


“What the hell is wrong with all you?” Stiles exploded at the pack. “Why would you do that?”  


“You’re the one that started puppy piles,” Cora argued, crossing her arms defensively.  


Stiles couldn’t smell the guilt on her but Derek could. Perhaps that’s why Stiles didn’t back down.  


“First of all, puppy piles are for pack bonding in a private place; Lucca is not pack and we are in middle of a goddamn store! Second of all,” he continued, face more alive than it had been in along time, “she has bruised ribs!”  


“We’re sorry,” Scott apologized, eyes big and sorrowful. “We forgot.”  


Stiles looked at Scott in disbelief, his gaze moving to included Cora, Erica, and Boyd. He ran a hand through his messy hair, his lips parted, but no words coming out. If his eyes could bug out and his head could fill with steam it would. “There’s no words,” he finally choked out, too overcome to verbalize the stupidity of their actions and statement.  


He glanced at Lydia, Jackson, and Kira for confirmation that half their pack was filled with imbeciles. Considering Lydia’s withering look, Jackson’s sneer, and Kira’s concern he wasn’t alone in his assessment. And while Derek didn’t disagree, he felt it was time to step in. He didn’t want this incident dividing his pack more than they already were.  


“Alright enough,” he glowered at all of them. “You all need to be more careful. And no more group outings with Lucca. This is just like yesterday,” he muttered more to himself than them.  


Most days he’s accepted that his pack is made up of adolescents – that he has to deal with their immaturity, their over dramatics, their volatile emotions. Days like today though really showed the difference in maturity between members. It saddened him that Jackson, Stiles, and Lydia changed so much from their experiences in the past two years, and yet it left him baffled how the rest of the pack hadn’t.  


Lucca returned five minutes later, her emotions locked down tightly. All her eye makeup had been wipe away and suddenly she looked younger, vulnerable. He wasn’t much for fashion but after hanging around Lydia and Erica he could tell Lucca dressed a certain way when going out as a way to minimize the reaction to her youth. If he was solely judging Lucca’s age based on her clothing, white skinny jeans and grey blouse, he’d peg her at early twenties. Now though, he could clearly see the teenage girl who just lost her parents.  


“You okay?” Stiles asked, walking right up to her and gently touching her elbow.  


“They took all the pain,” she reassured him with a smile. It looked brittle to Derek but he didn’t call her out on it.  


“Well?” Jackson demanded, glaring at the four that hurt her.  


Sheepishly, they all muttered, “Sorry.”  


“That was pathetic,” Jackson criticized, but quickly shepherd Stiles and Lucca away to finish shopping, a wise decision in Derek’s mind.  


Thankfully, living room furniture was the only thing left to buy and Lucca chose things quickly and sent the pack off. The entire trip left Derek confused and exhausted.


	8. New Girl

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lots of new things for Lucca including the first day at school!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...once a week posting lol And I've run out of chapters already written. I guess we'll see how it goes from here!

Lucca stood in front of the mirror, hands braced on the countertop, breathing ragged as she took in her reflection.  
“You’re okay,” she coached. “You’re fine. Breathe in for four, and release for four. Yeah. Okay. Okay,” she affirmed, putting all her will power behind the word. Shifting her weight so she could use a hand to rub at her moist eyes, she sucked in another gulp of oxygen pretending the air had serenity in it. The next exhale pushed all the anxiety out. Serenity in, anxiety out.  


She needed to schedule an appointment with Daphne. So far she found a place to live and furnished it without any moral support from her therapist but the rest of her to-do list: enrolling in school, finding a new doctor, actually moving, dealing with an unwanted group of people (werewolves) left her a ball of anxiety.  


Beacon Hills was about to become permanent. Something that had her panicking. While traveling, she had been living in a continuous flux, something that didn’t require commitment or large decisions. Other than where to stay for the night and where to eat, she hadn’t needed to make any significant choices, a mechanism that went a long way towards soothing the gaping chasms that was the future.  


Now though…  


Now she decided to stay. And try to build some semblance to a life in a town so riddled with supernatural crime she had to be insane for choosing it. But that’s what she did. And she had the lease agreement and a bill from Ikea to prove it.

Lucca didn’t tell Stiles which day she planned to move in; she didn’t want a repeat of the weekend. So it was just her and the delivery men on Tuesday putting together her new home. Her emotions were all over the place about it: excited about having her own place, pleased with the choices, sad that her parents weren’t here; so she focused solely on getting it done. At the end of the day she had silverware in the kitchen, new sheets on a new bed, a functional bathroom, and crushing sense of emptiness in her chest.  


She was alone. And nothing showed that more than an empty apartment.

After an encouraging skype session with Daphne Wednesday morning, she enrolled at Beacon Hills High School and found herself a doctor she liked at the local hospital. Unfortunately, or not, Dr. LaCroix noticed her stiff movements when they were going over her her medical history and current prescription for her migraines, and Lucca had to confess to the bruised ribs. She didn’t know how to explain that a vet that did the x-ray and that’s why it wasn’t in her chart.  


An undocumented injury plus being recently orphaned seemed to send up red flags for the doctor and only seemed soothed when Lucca pointed out her constant contact with her therapist who was listed in her medical chart. There wasn’t much Dr. LaCroix could do anyway seeing as Lucca was emancipated, and she seemed to realize that. So with a sigh and a well intended reprimand she dismissed Lucca.  


Lucca spent the rest of the week and weekend putting around her apartment, decorating and putting things away. She’d sent for the rest of her belongings earlier in the week that she had in storage in Colorado. There wasn’t a lot but more than she wanted to drive around with.  


Still, there were stretches of time with nothing to do. Having bruised ribs prevented her from doing almost anything she normally would have to fill her time, which left endless intervals to do nothing but curl up in bed and think and feel.  


Since walking was essentially the only exercise left to her, and as she and Daphne had agreed she needed a physical activity daily, she continued her walks in the preserve. Bumping into Jackson didn’t phase her like someone else from the pack might have. Perhaps because last time he hadn’t bothered her. Or maybe because he used his asshole powers for good when the pack was being invasive and pushy.  


Whatever the reason, they walked in companionable silence after he glided out of the woods and gave her an intense once over. Lucca didn’t know what emotions smelled like, but she doubted he was getting anything pleasant off her. After awhile they once again ended up at the parking lot and he gave her a casual, “See you at school,” before climbing into his car.  


She was still thinking about it long after he left. Wondering if Stiles told him or he just deduced it for himself. 

School had always been a conflicting experience for Lucca. It left her on edge being around so many people. Starting a new school made it worse. She spent five minutes sitting in her jeep breathing and visualizing a calm lake. She imagined each pebble she threw into the water as throwing away some of her anxiety. When the shakiness passed and her breathing leveled out, she left the safety of her car and ventured into the school.  


Stepping into the building she tried to remember the good things about school. The business. The sports clubs. The small circle of friends she managed to gather. The school had already emailed her class schedule so she glanced at the paper work she pulled from her bag intent on tracking down her locker.  


The paper was pulled from her hand. Her eyes flew up settling on Jackson and she raised an eyebrow at him. He smirked.  


“This way,” he nodded, walking off.  


“You my guide dog?” she asked.  


The withering glare he sent her way made her smile benevolently right back. “God, Stilinski is already rubbing off on you,” he muttered, disgruntled and stalked down the hallway. With scary precision, he led her directly to her locker and handed back the schedule so she could look at the combination and test it out.  


“Nope. Not happening. I’m intervening right now,” a new male voice spoke up.  


Lucca looked up and was met with an attractive, tall guy with a killer tan and sparkling dark eyes. He was smirking at Jackson so she assumed they were friends. Jackson rolled his eyes and reluctantly gave an introduction.  


“Lucca, this is Danny.”  


“Wow, that was so thorough. I feel like I’ve known him forever,” she sassed.  


“Someone’s sarcastic this morning,” Jackson commented, raising an eyebrow.  


Danny grinned at the by-play. “How do you two know each other?” he wondered.  


Closing her locker, she explained, “He was stalking me on the preserve trails.” She took a moment to appreciate Jackson’s truly epic bitchface and couldn’t help the foreign giggle that escaped her lips. Her laugh seemed to ease his annoyance.  


“Whatever.” He didn’t disagree. “I had to make sure you didn’t end up with the wrong crowd around here.”  


“Can I see your schedule?” Danny asked, nodding at the paper in her hand.  


She handed it over without a problem, noticing his adorable dimples and impressive biceps. “No gym?” he asked, eyes skimming the sheet.  


“Medically excused,” she answered. “I’ll take it next semester.”  


His eyes left the paper to skim her up and down as if searching for the medical reason. Since she was wearing dark skinny jeans, a pale purple tunic, nude ankle wedges, and her thick bangles on her wrists there wasn’t much to see.  


“Just ask if you’re curious,” Jackson huffed.  


“There is a thing called being polite,” his friend pointed out.  


And that scored major points with Lucca. She decided on the spot that being invasive and inconsiderate was definitely a werewolf thing, and so far, the entire species hadn’t impressed her.  


She smiled sweetly at Danny and asked if they shared any classes.  


Nodding, he listed off, “Chemistry, economics, study hall, and English.”  


“Oh God,” Jackson moaned. “Economics is going to be a circus.” Lucca didn’t even need to prod him before he explained, 

“The entire pack is in economics and coach is like a deranged ringmaster.”  


Lucca glanced at Danny wondering if he knew about the pack since Jackson just let it slip and caught him giving her the same speculative look. “You know?” she inquired.  


He nodded. “Yeah. How’d you find out? You just moved here, right?”  


She fiddled with the strap of her bag. “Had a run in with something. Derek and Stiles helped me out. It snowballed from there.” She wanted to shrug but had finally trained herself not to even though over the past few days the pain had almost disappeared.  


Danny’s eyebrows rose. “I’m going to say that is an extremely condensed version since you didn’t actually say anything about what happened.”  


Jackson snorted, a pleased smirk on his face. At the annoyed look his friend shot him he said, “What? It’s an impressive skill to answer a question without actually giving anything away. And anyway,” he switched subjects, pushing himself off the lockers, “we should get going. The bell’s about to ring.”  


With two tour guides, Lucca didn’t have any problems finding her new classes. Stiles gave her a tired smile when she walked into chemistry with Danny and Jackson – who apparently shared almost all her classes. Stiles at some point had mentioned Danny’s hacking abilities and wondered if it her class schedule was really a coincidence.  


Mr. Harris was a dick like Stiles had said. Not to her, at least not yet, but he was definitely a dick. Lucca spent most of the class worrying about Stiles. He looked the same – which meant awful. And if his wrecked appearance wasn’t enough, she caught Jackson giving him concerned glances as well.  


When the bell rang dismissing class, he slowly unfolded his body from his chair and it looked awkward and painful. Lucca waited for him, not having anything to say, but also not wanting to walk out without some sort of acknowledgment. He nudged her with his shoulder and moved to the hallway.  


“What’s your schedule like?” he asked, leaning against a locker free section of the wall.  


“Jackson requested Danny to hack the school server so most of my classes are with them.”  


“I would never,” Jackson protested, looking scandalized.  


Lucca side-eyed him. “Yeah. Sure.”  


“We all have economics together,” Danny added helpfully, not denying it.  


Lucca knew it.  


Stiles groaned and let his head fall back to bang gently against the wall.  


Over all the day wasn’t bad. Economics was a zoo. Between Coach Finstock – as everyone called him – throwing barbs at everyone and the pack throwing them right back they spent maybe five minutes collectively discussing anything economic related. Lucca loved it.  


Come lunch time, Lucca found herself sitting with Lydia, Jackson, Danny, Stiles, and Isaac. Erica glared from what Lucca assumed was their usual table with the rest of the pack like she purposely stole her friends. Or maybe she was still mad about the other weekend. Who knew? Lucca didn’t really care at this point.  


She met plenty of nice people through out the day. Between Jackson and Danny, she met just about everyone on a sports team. Lydia covered the girl population. It was a lot of names and faces and Lucca hoped no one got insulted when she didn’t remember who they were.  


After school she caught Coach on his way to lacrosse practice.  


“Who are you, person I don’t recognize?” he asked.  


Lucca had to fight back the laugh bubbling out of her mouth. “Lucca West.”  


“Well, what do you want?” Coach barked.  


“I want to sign up for cross country but I can’t start till next week. Also, would cross country interfere if I also did tennis?”  


Coach stared at her for a couple seconds as if befuddled with her questions and willingness to be physically active in two different sports. “Why not till next week?” he finally asked.  


She smiled brightly. “I’m not medically cleared yet.”  


“Right,” Coach muttered, looking her up and down. She felt like that was happening a lot lately. “You can’t do both. Matches and meets are on the same days.”  


Disappointment ran through her even though she wasn’t surprised. Nodding in understanding, she said, “That makes sense. I guess I’ll just run on my own. Thanks, Coach.”  


“Wait. Wait a second!” he commanded, with a crazy shake of his head. “I’m not losing to tennis of all things!”  


“Not much you can do, Coach. I need a partner and court for tennis. I can run by myself,” she explained, amused with his competiveness.  


“No!” he complained. “Here’s what we’re gonna do,” he suggested, hands waving around and head nodding. “Practice is on alternating days so you can still do both. You’ll just not compete for one.”  


Lucca raised an eyebrow at the proposition. In all honesty, she didn’t care about competing, she liked the sports for the socialization and exercise, but she knew what Coach was thinking. “I’m not missing tennis matches.”  


He made a face at her. She’d never seen a grown man look so bratty before. “Ugh. Fine!” he caved. “You’re probably a horrible runner anyway. Playing tennis! Pft.” He stalked off yelling, “I want to see your registration on my desk tomorrow!” over his shoulder.  


Lucca stood there staring at his retreating back thinking the man was weird and hilarious. She was really looking forward to cross country now.

***  


“West!” Coach shouted as soon as she walked into economics. “What the hell is this?” he yelled, holding two sheets of paper in one hand and a keychain with a tiny tennis ball attached in the other.  


“My registrations,” she relied promptly, stopping by his desk.  


“‘Your registration’. I can see that it’s your registration!” he bellowed. “Why the hell do I have a keychain and your tennis registration?”  


“Well it’s thanks to you that I can do both so it’s a token of my appreciation,” she grinned.  


He squinted at the tangling tennis ball then shifted his suspicious gaze to Lucca. “Smart aleck,” he grumbled. “Go sit down!” he ordered.  


Still grinning, she saluted him with two fingers and took her seat.  


“What was that about?” Stiles asked, leaning across his desk. Yesterday Jackson made some kid change seats so she could sit next to him, Danny, and Stiles. “You’re signing up for tennis?”  


She nodded, setting her bag on the floor. “Yeah. And cross country.”  


“Coach is letting you do both?” Danny asked, confused. “Don’t their schedules interfere with each other?”  
She nodded, noticing the other pack members pretending not to eavesdrop from a couple rows away. “Yeah. I’ll still do both, I just won’t be able to go to cross country meets.”  


“Bummer. You’ll miss all those fabulous bus rides to other schools,” Danny sighed.  


Lucca snorted. “Yeah, I’m heartbroken about it.”  


“Why tennis?” Jackson asked, trying not to sneer, but Lucca could still see the distain in his features.  


It didn’t bother her. She didn’t see the appeal of lacrosse. Tennis was perfect for her. Something physical and social, but not with too many people. She was part of a team but didn’t have to work with them since she didn’t play doubles. “I’ve been playing tennis since middle school.”  


“When are you starting? You said you weren’t taking gym for medical reasons,” Danny asked confused.  


“I should be fine by next week,” she assured him.  


“Alright hooligans!” Coach shouted at the front of the room. “If I can pry you away from your adolescent woes, I’m going to teach you why I’m vastly underpaid to deal with overgrown children. And why it effects the economy,” he tacked on.  


After trading amused looks with her friends, Lucca settled back in her chair and opened a notebook. 

Stiles was waiting by her jeep after school. More like leaning on it to keep himself propped up, but whatever. He flashed her an exhausted smile.  


“Wanna do something tonight?” he asked. “Most of the pack has lacrosse so they won’t be an issue.”  


She unlocked her door and threw her bag in the passenger seat. “Sure. What’d you have in mind?”  


He glanced around the rapidly emptying parking lot, not making eye contact. Apparently he used up his quota of nonchalance because Lucca could tell he was suddenly nervous, which was weird. “Nothing specific.”  


Eyeing him in speculation, she leaned against the open car door. “Why don’t you just come over? We can do homework, I’ll make dinner, maybe watch a movie?”  


He seemed to sag in relief and swung his gaze back to her. “Yeah. That sounds good.”  


Lucca suddenly got the impression that he just didn’t want to be alone tonight with the pack busy and his dad probably working, and he didn’t know how to admit that.  


With that settled, he followed her home. He poked around once they were inside, checking out the now furnished apartment, but didn’t vocalize any of his thoughts. She didn’t mind and settled on the couch waiting for him to be done exploring.  


“It turned out nice,” he nodded, plopping down next to her.  


“Yeah.”  


Stiles fiddled with his hands. “Does it bother you living alone?”  


That was a loaded question; she didn’t know where to begin. “Yes and no. I like the space and not having to worry about disturbing anyone else, but…”  


“It’s lonely?” he offered, face sad.  


Lonely…lonely didn’t even begin to capture the utter devastation and isolation she felt. The contradicting rage, abandonment, and grief she felt towards her parents for leaving her alone. Sucking in a lungful of air, she clamped down on the quiver she felt starting in her lips.  


“Yeah, but this is better than being in Colorado.” She swallowed against the pain. “There aren’t memories tied to this place.”  


Stiles was quiet after her confession, neither of them moving. “I guess I’m the opposite,” he murmured, quietly. “I feel like my house and the Jeep are the only connections I have left of my mom.”  


Lucca didn’t have any words so she reached over and took his restless hand, giving him a bittersweet smile that she hoped conveyed the right amount of empathy and encouragement. 

  


In a reversal of dinner at Stiles house a week and a half ago, Stiles sat on the counter while Lucca moved around the kitchen cooking.  


“You used to be on the lacrosse team, right?” she asked.  


“Yeah. Being possessed put an end to that. Not that I ever got to play anyways. And after everything else…” he shrugged.  


“I suppose all the reasons you joined don’t apply anymore,” she agreed, thinking about how his relationship with Scott had changed ever since the werewolf thing happened.  


Stiles bobbed his head in agreement. “Most of the lacrosse team is on the cross country team,” he informed her.  


She squinted at him, curious about the sudden information.  


“Finstock makes them. Figured you’d want a heads up. And by the way,” he gushed, suddenly changing tracks. “The keychain was pure brilliance!”  


Lucca smiled to herself as she checked the oven. “He looked so suspicious.”  


Stiles snickered and she looked over at him. “There may or may not be a tradition of pranking him,” he admitted, still smirking.  


She rolled her eyes at him and shook her head.

  



	9. Part of a Club

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucca joins Cross Country and Tennis.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What is this??? A chapter?!! Haven't seen one of those in a while. Definitely not my best chapter, but I'll never keep writing if I focus too much on it.

School quickly fell into a rhythm. Daphne said the structure and routine was good for her nerves. That consistency prevented anxiety. And while Lucca did agree with that assessment, none of her problems were school related and being preoccupied eight hours a day only did so much.  


She was sitting with Danny in study hall and asked him curiously, “What if you didn’t end up liking me?”  


He looked up from his laptop, mouth open in confusion as she broke his concentration. “Huh?”  


“You signed me up for almost all your classes, what if you didn’t like me?” It was so interesting to her. What did Jackson say to him? ‘Hey I meet someone and they’re starting here, hack into the school and make sure we have all the same classes’?  


Danny leaned back in his chair and looked at her in consideration. “I’m a pretty easy person to get along with. Worst case scenario, I would have ignored you. But Jackson doesn’t like many people,” he explained, face serious. “It says a lot about you that he made the effort.”  


Lucca nibbled on her lip not sure what to say. She liked the wolf too. Under the asshole persona, which always cracked her up – and what did that say about her? – he could be kind and considerate to select people. She saw it in the way he interacted with Stiles, Danny, and Lydia. Jackson wasn’t nice in the general sense, but he had fierce loyalty to those he considered important.  


The only question now was what did she do to garner Jackson’s favor? She hadn’t exactly been in the best place mentally and emotionally since they met. Her behavior had been all over the place and if things weren’t as they were, she would have been embarrassed about it. A question for another day she supposed as study hall came to an end. 

The female tennis coach, Ms. Halen, welcomed her happily to the team Monday. Apparently, tennis wasn’t a popular sport and any addition was gladly accepted. Dana, a girl Lucca recognized from a few of her classes, introduced herself in the locker room and then did the same for everyone else. The energy in the room was laid back and relaxed and Lucca let out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding in relief. Everyone was friendly enough, but not in her face – and that, was the perfect combination.  


“How’d you get to be friends with Jackson and Danny?” Dana asked as they did warm up swings on the court.  


Unsurprised at the question, she was truthful. “I actually have no idea. It just happened.”  


Dana looked curious, her corkscrew curls bobbing in a ponytail with each long swing of her arm. “That’s interesting.”  


“Why?”  


Over the past week she’d gathered Jackson and Lydia – although no longer a couple – were high school royalty. And 

Danny being ~~beautiful~~ friends with them and an amazing athlete was right up there on the social ladder.  
“Why?” Lucca asked, feeling like a parrot.  


Dana paused her swing long enough to shrug. “You seem – not like old friends – but familiar I guess?”  


The bewilderment must have shone on her face because Dana smiled at her with another shrug. “Whatever. Where’d you move from? I haven’t heard yet.”  


They chatted all through warm-up and drills, only pausing during their practice scrimmage, then in the locker room again. Dana pulled her friend Stephanie into the conversation and Lucca basked in the feel of normalcy.  


She didn’t have the same expectation for cross country, especially after Stiles’ warning that half the pack was on the team. During the school day they pretty much left her alone. They stared a lot; Isaac smiled, Cora gave a head nod sometimes, but that was it. And Lucca really didn’t mind. It was actually a relief to know they wouldn’t be hounding her at school.  


After changing in the locker room with the few girls on the team, she followed them out to the back of the school where they meet up with the boys and started stretching. Coach Finstock gave her an impressive stare before scrunching his face up and saying “West,” before moving on to bellow at the rest of the team.  


Jackson shook his head and saddled up next to her. “Now you’ve done it. Should have tried to stay under the radar, now he’s going to give you a hard time.”  


Lucca smiled winningly at him. “Doesn’t that just mean he likes me?”  


Jackson shook his head again. “You don’t want Coach to like you. It’s almost as bad as him not liking you.”  


She stared at him for a second, processing the information, and deemed it accurate based on what she’d witnessed so far. “Too late now,” she shrugged.  


They did their stretches as ordered then moved on to a warm up jog for a mile and a half on the track before hitting the running trails that snaked through the woods behind the school. Lucca had gone running the past few days, checking on how her body handled it after healing, and relished in the freedom the movement allowed her. Now running with Jackson by her side, Danny and Isaac right behind her, it felt even better. Scott, Kira, and Boyd didn’t even register on her radar as they ran ahead of the rest of the team.  


It was on their second hill when Danny shot her an ugly look.  


“What?” she asked, confused.  


He panted, chest rising and falling from the exertion of running up a hill. “You’re supposed to be human!” he complained, wiping the sweat along his hairline. The wolves were with them, but the rest of the team had lagged behind, unable to keep up with the pace the supernaturals set even if they were toning it down.  


Her bewildered look didn’t change. “I am?”  


He sent her another disgusted look and pushed on. Looking towards Jackson for answers he just smirked and kept running. Shaking her head, she concentrated on keeping her breaths even and her stride steady.  


When she followed Scott, Boyd, and Kira through the last bit of woods and onto the grassy field of the school with Jackson and Isaac besides her, she felt calm and happy instead of tired. It was why she loved exercising. The endorphin high was something that medication had never been able to do for her.  


She stretched out her sweaty limbs as they regrouped around coach and caught their breath. Danny caught up to them with a few others on the team.  


“I hate you,” Danny gasped, giving her the evil eye.  


Lucca thought that was incredibly unfair since she wasn’t the one with superhuman stamina and speed. So in retaliation she pointed to her shirt. Jackson burst out laughing and several others snickered.  


“What’s all the hullabaloo about?” Coach asked.  


No way was she going to awkwardly to point to her chest that said _Running/but did you die? _in front of Coach. Luckily, Isaac answered. “Danny is just mad that Lucca is in such good shape and totally beat him on the trail.”  
__

__Lucca raised her eyebrows and looked at Danny to see if that was true. Judging by the look of chagrin on his face, it was.  
_ _

__The human comment made more sense now.  
_ _

__Still, now she felt like she had to rub it in a little bit. Shrugging casually, she stretched an arm that really didn’t need it saying, “I’m used to running in a higher altitude, you know, on mountains. The small hills here don’t really compare…”  
_ _

__Danny choked on his next breath as several ‘ooohhhs’ and ‘dayumms’ went around the small gathering.  
_ _

__“Alright, enough. Enough,” Coach Finstock called, waving his clipboard around. “I knew you were going to be trouble, West,” he said, squinting at her again.  
_ _

__“All I did was run the trail like I was supposed to,” she grinned.  
_ _

__“Good Lord! Do you sass your parents with that mouth?” he asked.  
_ _

__Lucca sucked in a breath at the hurt that erupted in her chest. Pretending like she wasn’t 0.2 seconds away from crying, she spun on her heel to hide her face she knew she couldn’t control. Behind her she heard Jackson, “Coach! That was out of line. Don’t talk to her like that!”  
_ _

__“Excuse me, Whittemore?” Coach asked, voice filled with shock. But Jackson was already at Lucca’s side pulling her away towards the bleachers.  
_ _

__She could feel herself shaking in Jackson’s grip as she heard Isaac tell Coach, “Her parents died three months ago, Coach.”  
_ _

__“Fuc – Fudge on a stick!” Coach shouted. “You people need to tell me these things ahead of time!”  
_ _

__“Hey, ignore them, okay?” Jackson muttered, guiding her down to the sun warmed bleachers.  
_ _

__“Sorry,” she mumbled, “I shouldn’t be so sensitive about it.” The muscles in her face were still working against her so she kept her head bowed as she blinked furiously to keep the tears in. She’d been doing so well at school not having any melt downs. Those had been kept to the privacy of the empty rooms in her apartment.  
_ _

__God, thinking about it wasn’t making it any better.  
_ _

__Warm hands curled around hers. Glancing up, she jerked back slightly at having Jackson watching her so closely and sitting right there.  
_ _

__“Your entire family died. Fuck everyone else.”  
_ _

__Blue eyes. He had such blue eyes and a perfect jaw line. And he was telling her it was okay to be upset – which meant everything to her, especially after the way he stood up for her with Coach.__  
The subtle upward tilt of his nose gave away he was scenting her. “Do you need to use one of those visual things to calm down? I can’t even pin point what you’re feeling right now.”  


__A slightly hysterical laugh/sob left her mouth.  
_ _

__She didn’t know what she was feeling either.  
_ _

__And her already painful chest clenched at his suggestion; he remembered, and he wasn’t being judgmental about it even though she felt crazy and she was acting crazy and she came up those visuals with her therapist.  
_ _

__“Running helps,” she murmured, ducking her head away again, but still highly aware of the heat his hands gave off. “It’s why I joined in the first place…”  
_ _

__“Knowing coach, he will pretend this never happened and order drills to make everyone else forget too,” Jackson assured her.  
_ _

__She mustered up a small smile. “That sounds good.”  
_ _

__He rose an eyebrow. “You think that now. Coach’s drills are no joke. Not even for werewolves.”  
_ _

__“What can I say, I’m a masochist,” she shrugged.  
_ _

__Later at home, with her muscles like jelly and her body exhausted, the calm that only came after an intense workout settled along her bones and quieted her mind._ _

____

The next day she dragged herself to the grocery store even though she had zero motivation to buy food. Grocery stores were weird; they were timeless places without windows and bright florescent lights. It didn’t matter what time of day you went, it always looked the same. And apparently, Wednesday evenings were not a popular time to shop as the place had few patrons milling around.  


Sighing, Lucca grabbed a cart and started wondering up and down the aisles starting in the back of the store – a weird quirk she picked up from her mom. She was starting at the frankly impressive amount of tea choices when movement from the corner of her eye broke her concentration. Thinking it was just another shopper, she dismissed the person before quickly doing a double take. Derek Hale. That was definitely Derek Hale stalking down the aisle and coming to a stop next to her, apparently engrossed with selecting a tea. He had a small basket dangling in his hand that looked out of place on the man.  


Lucca waited a moment, for a greeting, a head nod, any kind of acknowledgement, till she received nothing and she rolled her eyes. Grabbing chamomile, mint, and Earl Grey she dumped them in her cart and walked a few feet away to browse the coffee selection. Finding the one she wanted, she dumped that in the cart too.  


“Organic coffee, huh?”  


She could feel her facing doing a WTF? expression as she gave an uncertain, “Yeah…?”  
but his face remained neutral and he didn’t comment further so she swung around the large shopping cart and headed over to the cereal aisle.  


A quick scan and she located her prize. Derek silently appeared and chose a cereal as well, slipping it into his basket. 

Slowly, she strolled down the aisle, scanning the shelves for anything she might want, a werewolf apparently shadowing her. By the next aisle he was walking besides her. For a second Lucca wondered if she actually slipped into a different reality when she drove across the Beacon Hills border because how was this her life right now?  


The twilight zone grocery store atmosphere certainly wasn’t helping. But the longer Derek walked with her, the more comfortable she felt with his presence, and the loneliness of shopping by herself disappeared.  


“The store brand is cheaper,” Derek commented as she grabbed chicken broth.  


“This one is MSG free.”  


He nodded.  


“The peaches are on sale.”  


She selected a few.  


“Vanilla flavor? Not caramel?”  


“Nope. Vanilla,” she insisted.  


“Here, I can reach it,” he offered.  


“Why do you need three types of lettuce?”  


She looked at him in disbelief. “Why would you only want one?”  


“Raspberry balsamic?” The eyebrows were raised.  


Lucca raised hers right back. “Have you tried it?”  


It was the weirdest shopping trip of her life, and that included furniture shopping with the entire pack. It was like he didn’t know what to talk about so the conversation was stilted back and forth comments about her food selection – which, had it been anybody else, she probably would have been annoyed with.  


“I have a coupon for that,” he offered at the checkout, their items separated on the vender belt by a thin bar. Lucca pressed her lips together to remain silence as he dug a tiny rectangle of paper out of his back pocket and handed it over to the cashier. He must have smelt the amusement off her though as he raised an inquiring eyebrow at her. Quickly, she turned away unable to hide the smile spreading across her face.  


He didn’t speak as she paid for her groceries, bagged them, and lingered while he paid and bagged his few items. They walked out to the parking lot together and Lucca blinked as fresh air washed across her face and natural light hit her eyes. Suddenly she was back in the real world. Shaking her head a little at the disorienting feeling, she dug her keys out and unlocked her Jeep. Nodding goodbye at Derek, she loaded her groceries up and drove home.


	10. Nightmares and Fairies - Not Mutually Exclusive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles grows closer to Lucca and further from the pack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What is this? A chapter?! I didn't know I did those anymore. Remember way back when when I optimistically said I'd have a chapter every week lol ...yeah, good times.

Stiles jerked awake, the scream still tearing out of his mouth. It left his throat raw as he panted, trying to get enough air in. But with the way his heart was frantically trying to escape his chest, it felt impossible. There wasn’t enough room in his body for the panic and fear, and his organs – he was sure of it. Ignoring the cold sweat coating his body, he curled into a tight ball wishing the nightly torture would just end. He felt like Prometheus; getting eaten alive each day just to do it all over again.  


Just a few hours of relief – was that too much to ask the universe? Sleep was his only escape from the memories and the nightmares took away his one solace. He curled his shaking fingers against his palm harder and gritted his teeth. The terror and grief was still pumping through is system in equal amounts. It didn’t matter that the dream was over, those emotions were a permeant part of him now; there was no getting rid of them.  


The thought that this would be his life forever sent him spiraling into more panic. He couldn’t do it. Couldn’t keep dealing with this every night. His panting breaths became shallower, his lungs suddenly not working. Instead of slowing down, his heart rate shot up again. Already his head was swimming, disorientated from an overload of emotions and too thin oxygen.  


Almost reflexively, he groped a hand around his bedside table, searching blindly for his phone. There wasn’t much thought, but some instinct told him it would help. It would get air back into his lungs so he could breathe.  


“Stiles?” a soft feminine voice asked.  


He shuddered out a harsh exhale.  


“Stiles. Hey, take a breath, okay? Breathe in for four. And out for four. Good. Again. In for four and release one, two, three, four. In, two, three, four. Out, two, three, four.”  


Sweet air flooded his system. His lungs expanded with the relief and his heart slowed a fraction, easing the tightness constricting his chest. Peeling open his eyes, he realized they had been squeezed shut. The darkened outline of the room came into focus and the familiarity of the space calmed him some more.  


“Lucca,” he rasped, mouth dry and throat still stinging. There was a water bottle around somewhere nearby but his muscles still felt heavy and twitchy – an annoying combination – and it was too much effort to search.  


“Dream?” she asked.  


“Yeah,” he agreed, voice cracking. He smothered his face into his bedding but still clung to the phone like a lifeline. 

“Sorry, you were probably sleeping.” He hadn’t looked at the time but he went to bed late and likely slept for an hour before the nightmare started up again.  


“I wasn’t so don’t worry about it,” her voice in his ear replied, brushing off his concern.  


“Why weren’t you sleeping?” he wondered. Focusing on Lucca helped; he could feel the last remains of the panic slithering away and a neutral exhaustion taking its place.  


“I was doing yoga.”  


Her tone was so dry he couldn’t tell if she was joking or not. Some of his long lost curiosity seeped back into him and he mustered up some strength to peel the phone away from his ear to check the time. 2:34am. No way she was doing yoga at 2:30 in the morning.  


“You should try it sometime. It’s good for anxiety. It calms the mind and body.”  


“You sound like an advertisement,” he muttered, sinking back down into a comfortable position.  


“It would be sucky advertisement if it wasn’t true,” was her rebuttal.  


Stiles mentally conceded the point. “I’m not bendy.”  


Lucca snorted. “You don’t have to be flexible to do yoga. You do yoga to get flexible.”  


“Don’t try to use your Jedi mind tricks on me,” he murmured, eyes drifting closed.  


“Pretty sure we’d need to be in the same room for it to work.”  


“It’s Beacon Hills,” he slurred, “Anything’s possible…”

Stiles woke in the morning with his phone tucked underneath his chin and digging uncomfortably into his collar bone. He sat up, rubbing at the sore spot and wondering when he fell asleep. He’d been talking to Lucca, then nothing…  


Sighing, he saw that’d woken up before his alarm even went off and sighed again, relieving the oppressive weight on his chest for a nanosecond. He sat there for another minute to gather his strength and will power to actually get up; his alarmed jerked him to attention and he cursed himself for losing time like that.  


It sent cold trickles of fear through him that he he shook off, violently getting to his feet and marching into the shower as if he could run away from the sensation – the flashback of when the Nogistune had control of him and chunks of time went missing.  


Some inexplicable urge had him rushing to get out of the house and to school. The feeling, the urgency, didn’t dissipate until he saw Lucca talking to a girl by her locker. Dana, his mind supplied as he felt himself settling. God he was such a mess. Dana gave him a small smile and left, and if he had any emotions to spare for the general public, he would have felt bad about it but also appreciated her leaving.  


“Mornin’n sunshine,” Lucca drawled, eyeing him up and down.  


He narrowed his eyes, not appreciating the sarcasm when she should look just as sleep deprived as him. Instead she looked fresh in ripped denim shorts, a soft t-shit and an oversized comfy looking cardigan. Her hair was straight, hanging to her shoulders. In her hand was a folder, notebook, and text book.  


“I hate you,” he muttered, half heartedly.  


“I could tell by the late night booty call.”  


Stiles raised an eyebrow. “Is that what we’re calling them now?”  


Lucca grinned, her nose scrunching up in an attempt to appear vicious that didn’t look anything other than cute to Stiles.  


Shaking his head, he threw an arm around her shoulders muttering, “You’re such a dork.” He pressed his face into her hair, inhaling the herbal fragrance, and let his eyes fluttered shut for a second. “Thanks for last night.”  


She wrapped an arm around his waist and squeezed.  


It felt like he slept walked to class, propped up by Lucca. She didn’t say anything as she guided him through the halls, but he appreciated the steady, warm presence she was by his side. Danny and Jackson appeared in the doorway as Lucca deposited him in his seat. Jackson gave him a long, penetrating look then flickered his gaze over to Lucca.  


Chemistry passed in a haze like most of his classes did now. Stiles had his eyelids trained to stay up even if his lucidity was questionable. Jackson is what pulled him from his habitual rut as they were walking to their next class.  


“You called Lucca last night?”  


Stiles had to claw his way through the mind numbing exhaustion to catch on to what Jackson was asking. Nodding hesitantly, he worried for a second that Jackson would be insulted that he called her instead of him.  


“Don’t feel bad,” Jackson ordered softly, shaking his head. “I don’t care who you call, as long as you do when you need someone.”  


A relieved breath stuttered past his lips and he nodded his acknowledgment. Jackson clasped him on the arm and kept walking.  


It wasn’t until lunch, when he found himself unconsciously leaning against Lucca like he would one of the wolves before the Nogsitune, that it crossed his mind to wonder why he called Lucca instead of Jackson or Derek. Then he wondered why Lucca didn’t think it was strange. Sure, he’d pretty much told her every dark secret he had that night at the diner, however, that didn’t exactly translate to 2am phone calls when he was on the brink of a panic attack. And she just rolled with it like she did finding out supernatural cults and werewolves were real.  


Feeling his stare, she turned her face to look back at him, an inquisitive tilt to her head. Now wasn’t exactly the time to ask her how she was processing everything, but she couldn’t be handling everything as well as she appeared to; with the exception of her mini break down in his kitchen she’d been behaving far too normal. Losing her parents, getting kidnapped, and moving to a supernatural hotspot? That wasn’t something you just brushed off.  


Shrugging, in response to her question, he leaned a little heavier on her hoping it made her feel a little less alone like it did for him.

  


Days of the week didn’t hold the same meaning they used to for Stiles, but Friday’s always stood out because it was pack night, and unfortunately, this Friday would be dedicated to roaming the preserve searching for a carnivorous fairy. From the research Stiles found, originally they were a balanced part of nature, the supernatural equivalent of animal scavengers that ate the dead bodies of creatures. This one however, had started in on normal animals leaving half eaten bodies littering the preserve and had even started branching out into residential yards that were nearby; two pets had been victims.  


Apparently, it had been happening all week but Derek didn’t think it warranted action until Thursday when a jogger had a bite taken out of their ankle. Stiles offered up what he discovered and out went the pack to trudge through the woods. 

Tension split the group after Scott said Stiles should stay home and Derek over ruled him.  


“He’ll just slow us down!” Scott argued. “Besides, he did his job and found out what the creature is, there’s nothing else he can do.”  


“That’s not your decision,” Derek growled. “If Stiles wants to come with us, he will. He’s a part of this pack, not just a research lackey.”  


Scott opened his mouth again, seemingly lost for words till finally mumbling, “…That’s not what I meant.”  


“Then what did you mean?” Derek demanded. His tone wasn’t forceful, but the intense look on his face and the stiff set of his back had Scott squirming. Stiles stood motionless waiting for Scott’s reply, already feeling the hurt and betrayal from him cutting deep; conflicting with the pain was the gratitude towards Derek for defending him. The rest of the pack was unusually silent, their gazes swinging between the two wolves.  


Scott seemed to be withering underneath the alpha’s stare by the second, his eyes flickering desperately to Kira, Boyd, and Erica as if looking for one of them to speak up for him. Finally, he managed, “I just don’t want him getting hurt.”  


Everyone relaxed at the confession – Lydia nodding along and Kira giving Scott a sweet smile – except for Jackson who snorted in disbelief and rolled his eyes when Stiles glanced over at the noise. On a second look around, Stiles noticed Derek didn’t seem impressed as everyone else did with the answer. His back was still strung tight like a bow and the muscles around his eyes were still scrunched.  


Stiles knew what was going through the alpha’s mind – any of the wolves could have picked up on it if they were paying attention: Scott’s words and behaviors hurt Stiles more than any creature they’d find in the woods. In fact, Scott was right up there with the anguish caused by the Nogitsune.  


“Can we just move this along?” Cora interrupted the awkward silence. “I don’t want my entire Friday night taken up by this thing.”  


Turned out there was more than one ‘thing’. Which explained why they started branching out and attacking normal animals and a human; they weren't meant to live in close corridors thus having to compete for food. Stiles couldn’t get a count on the fairies with them zipping around so quickly, but they were attacking the pack vigorously, darting in and out with razor sharp teeth, although they seemed to only be ripping clothes and not skin as the wolves used their own speed to dodge. Stiles couldn’t help scoffing at the wolves and rolling his eyes when they thought swiping at them with claws was going to be effective when they were only a foot and a half tall.  


“And this is why you all need me,” he mumbled to himself grabbing the two aerosol cans he had stashed in his pockets and deftly wove his way through the fighting wolves and starting spraying the area liberally.  


“Are you really trying to stop them with hairspray?” Erica asked exasperated, batting away a fairy tugging at her hair.  


Pushing down his annoyance, Stiles kept spraying the area – maybe hitting a few select wolves in the face with the mist – and let the satisfaction bloom as the fairies started shrieking in high pitch voices and stopped their attack to roll around on the ground in apparent pain.  


Isaac sniffed the air as all the wolves came to a halt, staring at the half dozen fairies on the forest floor. “What are you spraying? It smells kinda like blood.”  


“Iron water,” Stiles shrugged, spraying till the cans were empty for good measure.  


He didn’t feel much remorse as the shrill screams faded into a morbid silence as the fairies died.  


“Is that the only way to kill them?” Kira asked curiously, putting her katana away.  


“No. If you could catch them, you could totally tear them apart,” he replied nonchalantly, his annoyance rekindling.  


He glanced around at the pack, taking in their disarrayed clothes and hair and various expressions of disgruntlement. 

Probably annoyed that he took care of the problem by himself in less than two minutes. Maybe if they listened to him explain what he learned about the fairies they wouldn’t have rushed in and wasted their time. But no, they were big strong wolves that used their claws and teeth to take care of every problem and there couldn’t possibly be a smarter, easier solution. And certainly not one Stiles could do singlehandedly.  


“Peace out,” he announced, back tracking through the trees to where he parked his jeep.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More Derek and Lucca awkwardness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter, but I figure a short chapter is better than no chapter.

Derek didn’t know why he was standing outside Lucca’s front door instead of going to his loft. Okay, he did know, he just didn’t want to admit that he had several bites from the fairies that weren’t healing and he didn’t want to show weakness in front of the pack. Isaac and Cora would have headed to the loft and he wanted to take care of the wounds without the packs judgment and concern.  


As he knocked, he reasoned that Lucca was his only option since she already knew about the supernatural. Surprise passed over her face before her forehead wrinkled in concern. Silently, she stepped back allowing him entry.  


“Go sit at the kitchen table,” she directed him, shutting the door behind him then crossing the living room and disappearing in the bathroom. Derek took in the fully furnished apartment as he followed orders. He never put a lot of stock in things like furniture and decorations revealing personal depth, but his eyes were hooked on the three canvases of turbulent water Lucca had hanging on the wall in the living room. Against his will, he felt a pull at his gut when he looked at the moody atmosphere and vivid colors; could feel the kinetic power even though it was a still shot. It made him feel small. Helpless. Even as an alpha, he was nothing against a force of nature like that. He wondered if that’s what Lucca felt when she looked at the image and why she’d have such an uncomfortable reminder hanging on her wall.  


Armed with a first aid kit, she returned and set it on the table. “What happened?” she wondered, not making a move to do anything with the kit.  


Feeling sheepish, he explained about the fairies. “When the bites didn’t heal right away, I went back and read the research Stiles did –”  


“Why wouldn’t you do that before confronting the fairies?” Lucca asked, crossing her arms over her chest and looking at him like he was an idiot.  


“Because Stiles is right and I think I can handle every threat with my teeth and claws because I’m an alpha werewolf,” he admitted through gritted teeth.  


“Hmhmm,” she agreed, not looking the least bit sympathetic.  


Derek wasn’t sure if he felt annoyed or relieved that she wasn’t making this a big deal.  


“And let me guess,” she said, lips quirking up into a smirk, “There was something in his research that said their bites were poisonous or something?”  


He sighed, wishing none of this ever happened. A small part of him had hoped she wouldn’t ask a lot of question, but even while wishing for that, he knew she wouldn’t let this go without an explanation. “They have some kind of chemical in their saliva to help break down meat and bones, almost like acid. Which means my healing will neutralize the chemical but cause the bites to heal slowly.”  


Lucca nodded, finally averting her attention from the conversations to his ripped clothing that was sporting splashes of blood. The increase in her heart rate pulled him from his chagrin and had his attention focusing on the teenager in front of him.  


“Lucca?” he asked, feeling his gut clench in sympathy. He recognized that glazed look in her eyes, and even if he hadn’t, the accompanying scent of panic and grief suddenly swirling around the kitchen would have given it away. “Lucca,” he repeated, leaning forward in his chair, unsure what exactly caused the flashback and hesitant to do anything to aggravate it further.  


Luckily, the bleach and mildew smell quickly evaporated. Lucca blinked, shaking off whatever she remembered and busied herself with opening the first aid kit. “Do you actually need help, or are you just here for supplies and privacy?”  


A small smile tugged at his lips that she understood. And oddly enough, he also appreciated being called out for his stupidity. It was a battle each day to be a good alpha and he was still figuring things out. Alpha training wasn’t something he needed growing up and he didn’t have an outgoing personality like Laura did; it made the learning curve steep.  


“Mostly just supplies,” he muttered, stripping out of his shirt with a sigh. The thing was really a lost cause, but he didn’t have anything else with him. The Camaro, which did have spare clothes in it, was parked at the loft since Cora and Isaac took it home after the fairy fiasco.  


Reaching for the kit, he pulled out antiseptic wipes and big band-aids with a scowl and got to work. The bites were about the size of a quarter, except for the few that were larger from where the vindictive things latched on and ripped more skin when he pried them off. The bleeding stopped, but the blood was congealed, and for a werewolf it freaked him out a little when he prodded the wound and it started bleeding again.  


The faint scent of amusement wafted from Lucca so he ignored her the best he could, concentrating on patching himself up. His mind wandered to how this must be a routine thing for Stiles when he became injured – there was an industrial sized first-aid kit in the Jeep that he always kept stocked. The argument from earlier crept into his thoughts; he absolutely supported Stiles fighting along side them, however, this little stint with the fairies revved up his protective instincts, especially with his own – not mortality – _vulnerability _coming to light. Derek always worried about Stiles, and he knew how much Stiles was struggling on a day to day basis. Throwing in supernatural creatures to the mix only made things worse.  
__

__Tentative fingers on his back, jerked him out of his thoughts. His eyes met Lucca’s turquois one’s and he couldn’t help but notice she had soft shadows underneath that the day’s make-up couldn’t hide anymore.  
_ _

__“I can get the ones on your back,” she offered.  
_ _

__He nodded, all the worry building in his chest suddenly gone with her distraction. Appreciating the reprieve from his own anxiety, he focused his senses on the girl before him as she cleaned the bites on his back. The pungent scent of mildew – grief – he smelt earlier still clung to Lucca although on a much milder scale. Loneliness was there, as well as exhaustion which he could visibly see.  
_ _

__From pack gossip he knew she played both tennis and ran cross country at school. Jackson casually mentioned that Lucca had been getting the nightmare calls from Stiles when he inquired because it had been a while since he received one. He had mixed feelings about Stiles relying on someone outside the pack for that emotional comfort when he had been the go-to person. But he understood, sitting in silence with Lucca, he felt a levity that only came when he was surrounded by a happy, safe pack.  
_ _

__However, the reason he had Stiles call him and not Jackson – even though he always offered – was because he wasn’t in school and didn’t keep demanding hours. The strangely protective part of him flared up at witnessing Lucca’s fatigue.  
_ _

__“Do you have plans tonight?” he asked.  
_ _

__He felt the press of the bandage on his back and followed Lucca’s movements as she stepped back into his line of sight.  
_ _

__“No,” she replied cautiously, watching him with weary eyes. Almost as if to give herself something to do, she swept the curled up Band-Aid wrappers into her palm and went to throw them in the trash.  
_ _

__Satisfaction bloomed in him that she wasn’t going out and could stay home and rest.  
_ _

__“Why?” she asked suspiciously, putting away the unused bandages and snapped the first-aid kit closed.  
_ _

__It was a simple answer, but it stalled on the tip of his tongue, embarrassment and confusion keeping chains on the words. There shouldn’t be any reason he was vested in her wellbeing, and advertising that he was would undoubtedly make her uncomfortable. Her position with the pack was already precarious, what with her knowledge of the supernatural, but not her involvement. Add in the pack’s split feelings regarding her… Outsiders in general were dangerous to the pack’s safety. And yet, he had no such concerns with Lucca when he really should.  
_ _

__Metaphorically shaking his head to clear the jumble of thoughts, he settled for a non-communal shrug. Shrugs were safe.  
_ _

__Lucca raised a skeptical eyebrow at him. He felt the weight of her stare and begrudgingly admired the power behind it.  
_ _

__“Do you want to watch a movie?”  
_ _

__Surprised had both her eyebrows rising up to her hairline and her lips parting. Inside, Derek mirrored her surprise; he did not expect that to come out of his mouth.  
_ _

__“Here?” she asked for clarification. “You want to watch a movie, here, in my apartment?”  
_ _

__Unable to backtrack now, and feeling incredibly like Stiles, he grunted in affirmation. He forced himself to sit still as Lucca continued to look at him with confusion.  
_ _

__Finally, after an uncomfortable silence she asked, “Isn’t it pack night?” She shuffled her feet and his eyes were drawn to her painted toes; they were a turquois no where near as pretty as her eyes.  
_ _

__“After the fairies every one split up for the night.”  
_ _

__Lucca shuffled her weight again, eyebrows still drawn in incomprehension. She fingered the pendant around her neck before meeting his eyes again. “What movie?”  
_ _

__Apprehension still showed clearly in her features, but her response wasn’t a no.  
_ _

__“You can choose,” he offered.  
_ _

__The trepidation from Lucca didn’t ease until they were settled on the couch and ten minutes into the movie passed. He surreptitiously kept shooting looks her way, curious and concerned about her anxiety. Watching a movie with Lucca turned out to be an interesting experience; she didn’t talk, but the up and down crescendo of her emotions that correlated to everything happening on the screen had to be exhausting for her.  
_ _

__As a werewolf he was well versed in knowing what people were feeling, and subsequently, tuning it out for the most part, but he’d never known another person to have such strong feelings towards everything little thing. Especially a movie of all things. Distress poured off her during any time the main character lied, second-hand embarrassment was just as strong, and amusement spiked during funny moments. What really amazed Derek though was how none of it showed on her face. Her heart might race, her shoulders could stiffen, her hands clench, but those reactions never crossed her features.  
_ _

__“Do you not like movies?” he asked as the closing credits scrolled across the screen and Lucca let out a relieved breath, smelling even more exhausted than she did at the start.  
_ _

__“What?”  
_ _

__Using his default shrug, he answered, “You seemed to have a strong reaction to everything in the movie.” It was a romantic comedy; he hadn’t thought there would be any stressful about it.  
_ _

__Lucca’s scent soured immediately and he regretted saying anything, especially when she turned defensive.  
_ _

__“You’re the one who wanted to watch a movie. Sorry if my ‘strong reactions’ were bothering you,” she spit out coldly, her eyes hardening, and her heartrate picking up.  
_ _

__“That’s not what I meant,” he sighed. “If movies aren’t something you enjoy we just won’t watch them in the future.”  
_ _

__“The future?” she repeated, skeptical.  
_ _

__Derek rubbed at his stubble, unsure how to respond because he didn’t know what he was doing.  
_ _

__“I don’t want you to be uncomfortable,” he settled on.  
_ _

__Lucca’s eyes flickered over to meet his gaze before skidding away. She bit her lip as she reached out to hold onto her pendant again, some type of pink crystal Derek noted.  
_ _

__“Sorry,” she mumbled the apology. “This is just weird. I don’t do well with new and weird.”  
_ _

__“I did hijack your evening,” he acknowledged, listening to her heart slow again as she took in some deep breaths. He didn’t really want to leave now, not when her emotions were swinging all over the place and he was at fault for it, but staying didn’t seem like the right solution either.  
_ _

__They both sat in silence for a few minutes just breathing. Mentally, Derek was trying to figure out what to do. Sensing what people where feeling didn’t make him any better at dealing with those emotions as Stiles had frequently told him. Being the Alpha was a double edged sword that way: his presence and touch alone was soothing and comforting to his pack, but at the same time words were often more important. Especially when dealing with Stiles who didn’t have the same bond as the wolves or Isaac who had the trauma from his dad to overcome.  
_ _

__Isaac had resilience though. His dad dying diminish half his fear, becoming a werewolf took care of another half. Grief over Allison and the split pack had undone some of the progress, but he felt proud of his beta the way he and Jackson had come together for Stiles.  
_ _

__Stiles…  
_ _

__He wasn’t sure how to help Stiles. Even with Jackson and Isaac, it didn’t seem they were making any progress. It was, he admitted, why he didn’t say anything about him reaching out to Lucca; he wouldn’t deny Stiles someone he found comforting. And it seemed like Lucca was helping. And they needed all the help they could get.  
_ _

__He rose from the couch, awkwardly thanking Lucca for her help with the bites and wished her a good night. Stiles would be so proud of his budding social skills._ _

____   



	12. Emotional Beast

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a hard time writing this chapter because of all the angst. Seriously, I write a few sentences and then have to go do something else - which is why it probably took so long. But there is plot hidden in there! You might not realize it yet, but this chapter is setting things up for something big later on.

Lucca spent Saturday strung out on the couch nursing a headache. Thankfully it wasn’t one of her migraines, but the ache made anything other than being prone an unpleasant thought. The pain-killers weren’t helping – something she was accustomed to – so vegging on the couch, half watching TV was where she was at. The pain was exhausting, and to herself – and maybe Daphne – she would admit she hadn’t been sleeping very well.  


She’d been sincere in reassuring Stiles that he hadn’t been disturbing her with his nighttime calls. They were actually nice, if only in the fact that she had someone to talk to during the endless stretch of night, even if those conversations entailed talking Stiles down from a panic attack.  


As Daphne always coached her, silver linings were important, so instead of feeling guilty that the calls were happening because Stiles was an emotional mess, she saw it as a win-win that they both had someone when the needed it.  


Lucca just wished they both could sleep through the night. Yeah, she was putting that out to the universe; Daphne would approve of that positive thought.  


Positive thoughts were crap.  


Her head still ached – a horrible pressure that made her nauseous and weak. Tears leaked out of her eyes and she had to bite back the sob working its way out of her chest.  


But not feeling well tipped her over the edge.  
The emotional grip she normally kept on a tight leash slipped: the cry burst from her lips and she pressed her face into the couch cushion as if that would do something to hold back the gush of grief pouring out of her like an open wound.  


She knew, she knew she’d been repressing a lot since she settled in Beacon Hills, but functioning had been the priority. And she did. Every responsible and normal thing she needed to do, she had done. But now…now with her head pounding and her stomach churning she just wanted her mom and dad. Wanted her mom to rub her back while she lay there miserable and have her dad to bring her too many pillows and blankets because he couldn’t do anything else for the pain. Lucca wanted their reassuring words that the hurt would pass, and it was only temporary, and they would do something fun once she was feeling better.  


But they were gone.  


Ripped away from her in a matter of moments. Never again would she have the security of her parents. The emotional wound somehow hurt worse than the physical throbbing in her head. She’d take a thousand headaches over the freezing void in her chest, the lack of nothing ironically too heavy to bare.  


She was so alone and it just brought more tears to her eyes. She couldn’t stand it.  


Blindly, she reached for her phone before she could think it through. With shaking fingers and hitching breaths she tapped the call icon.  


“Stiles,” she cried, when he picked up. “Can you come over?” she begged, voice cracking and thick with tears.  


She didn’t really hear his response other than it was affirmative. The phone slipped down her wet cheek and landed on the couch cushion before sliding off and landing on the floor with a thud. It didn’t matter, not when her chest was caving in on itself. She tried to do her breathing exercises, but ended up making it worse as she forced her body to inhale to a rhythm it wasn’t following. It caused her to throat to seize up, confused if the air was going up or down.  


For a few terrifying seconds… Lucca couldn’t breathe.  


Adrenaline pumped into her system, her heart kicking into overdrive as her body panicked. Finally, when the room began tilting, her throat expanded and her lungs inflated with oxygen. She jerked off the couch, hitting the floor coughing in between gasp of air that just made her cough harder as tears and snot slid into her mouth. The coughing fit coupled with the scare just made the crying that never stopped ramp up another level.  


Forehead to the floor, she sobbed into the carpet uncaring that the position was awkward. The void in her chest felt like its inky depths were spreading to the rest of her body, slowly consuming her, eating up every bit of strength and will power. It fed on her grief, the loneliness, the anger, growing ever stronger; a ravenousness beast never satisfied.  


Lucca felt like she should be empty of the emotions by now, that purging would bring relief, but somehow it became an escapable loop – the more she acknowledged the feelings, the more they grew.  


The sound of a knock on the door almost didn’t register. The apartment seemed to materialize around her, like anything outside of her body hadn’t existed before this moment. The bristles of carpet against her face, the pressure of the couch along her side, the sunlight streaming in through the window – none of it real till now.  


Stiles was the only reason she attempted to get up on shaky limbs. Her legs and arms felt numb, like dead weight. The blood sloshed painfully in her head with the new equilibrium of standing. Lucca sucked in whimpering cries and staggered to the door, clinging to the handle to keep herself upright as her stomach tried to rebel against the pain and motion.  


There was a split second where she noted her appearance registering on Stile’s face, that horridly empathetic devastation only someone in his position could understand, then he stepped inside and had his arms wrapped around her shaking frame. Lucca didn’t know how, but they ended up lying on the couch, her face buried in his chest and his arms wrapped too tightly around her.  


Her sobs escalated into screaming with tears, her body seizing so hard she would have fallen off the couch again if Stiles wasn’t squeezing her so hard. It didn’t make sense, but it felt worse with Stiles here, like everything had been amplified - an already raw wound scraped deeper.  


It just made her cry harder.  


That wasn’t supposed to happen. He was supposed to make her feel less alone, less like she was about to drown in her own suffering. He was supposed to make her feel better.  


Instead, it felt unbearable, but each horrible moment passed, a testament to the fact that it was possible to endure it despite wanting to die rather than continue living with this anguish. The assault came from every angle: physical, emotional, mental. It was confusing and overwhelming and she felt helpless against the force of it. She wasn’t in control of her body and it felt like the final betrayal – the one thing she had command over suddenly slipping between her fingers.  


Time lost meaning again. Lucca didn’t even have the awareness to be anxious about the missing chunks of time, too focused on the battered feeling radiating throughout her body. She felt like a leaf tossed through a storm; thrown around, shredded, and finally the pieces pinned under debris. The vicious throbbing in her head at the focal point, but looking past that, the damage to the rest of her body throbbed too. It didn’t make sense how emotional pain somehow became physical.  


And it was just one more injustice in her world.  


The endless well of misery in her chest hadn’t run dry yet, but her body was slowing down, too exhausted to continue. Her cries tampered off into shuddering hiccups – a relief to her sore throat – but still shook her body with the force of them. The tears stopped, probably from dehydration at this point, however, none of it made Lucca feel better.  


The emotions were still there, suffocating her.  


The head and body aches worse than earlier.  


Fingers gently carded through her hair. Vaguely, she wondered how long he’d been doing that, but didn’t have the energy to do anything other than burrow her face into his wet shirt and breath through the pain. She kept her eyes closed, living in the dark with the pain thrumming through her veins, resounding through her head, and pulsing in her stomach.  


A few times, Stiles’ voice nudged her to respond to questions. Things like if she wanted to eat or sleep in her room. It felt like the lesser of two evils to shake her head no since her throat felt like it had swelled shut. Stiles moved around, got up a few times, moved her body like a doll. Sometimes he spoke to her, his voice a lulling presence that flowered through her not quite formed thoughts.  


“Lucca. Lucca.”  


Unwilling, she opened an eye, feeling her heavy head held up by something warm and firm on her face.  
Stiles.  


He’d somehow gotten her to sit up without her noticing (or participation), his large palms framing her cheeks.  


“You with me?” he asked, eyes crinkled in concern.  


“Yeah,” she croaked around a tongue that she swore turned into a piece of wood since the last time she spoke.  


“Drink,” he ordered, using one hand to bring one of her water bottles with a straw to her lips. The cool water felt magical against her raw throat but after a few sips it sloshed uncomfortably in her stomach. She turned her head away when she had enough and felt her head dipping down. Stiles was quick to maneuver her against the couch cushions so her head was propped upright.  


Time skipped around for a while.  


“I don’t know, Derek. She’s scaring me.” A long pause. “I get that. Out of anyone, I get it, okay? But it’s been hours of this.”  


Lucca didn’t like the worry, the stress, in Stiles voice. The tone registering more than the words. She opened her eyes and winced as the light shot straight through her retinas to her brain. Unsurprisingly, Stiles was pacing around the room, agitation clear in the lines of his shoulders. He moved over to the kitchen, walking out of her line of sight, and there was no way between the strain in her eyes and weight of her head she was going to keep watching him.  


“No, I refuse to believe that,” he replied. “Just get over here, maybe there’s something that you’ll pick up on that I can’t.” There was a harsh sigh and then silence.  


Lucca’s thoughts drifted again as she fixated on the paintings hanging on the wall. Back to the headspace that disconnected from everything, a limbo of sorts. Where she could feel the pain pummeling her body, but it didn’t matter much anymore.  


“Lucca.”  


A voice. Different from Stiles. Light eyes. Dark stubble.  


Her head lolled, but she tried to swim her way to the surface.  


“She’s in a lot of pain.”  


A whimper escaped her lips as the stabbing in her brain began to dissipate. The tears that she’d ran out of earlier found new life and through blurry vision she saw tan arms and black streaks; it could have been in her head or coming out of her mouth, but a litany of thank you’s stuck on repeat along with Derek’s name.  


“I should have called you earlier.”  


“Don’t even think about feeling guilty for this,” came a growl.  


A different sort of exhaustion settled over Lucca. One familiar and welcome. The fatigue after a migraine, when everything hurting tapered off and she could finally rest.  


The hands touching her moved away and she chased after them craving physical contact. The raw, panicky feeling her chest still remained, and she just couldn’t…couldn’t be alone right now.  


Stiles and Derek both reacted, moving to box her in between their bodies in some unspoken communication or maybe she just missed it. Her arms found their way around Derek’s neck, his hands splayed along her hips, and her legs rested in Stiles lap. He rubbed soothing circles on her thigh while one hand held her ankle.  


For the first time since her parents died, Lucca felt grounded. Snuggled between the two men, she sniffled into Derek’s shoulder and felt herself slipping into a deep sleep. 

 

Lucca woke with startling clarity. Blinking around her room, yesterday came back to her in foggy montages. Physically, she didn’t feel the normal repercussions after a day like that which she attributed to magical werewolf pain sucking powers – which awesome – so it was just the emotional backlash she was feeling.  


Yesterday’s meltdown hadn’t been cathartic. Instead, those emotions were precariously nestled in her chest, ready to ignite at a moment’s notice. She moved out of bed, gingerly acting like the emotional bomb in her chest could explode if she walked too quickly.  


And that wasn’t okay.  


She refused to be a walking wound. Not when she’d been doing so well.  


After a quick stop in the bathroom, she found Stiles in her living room on the couch watching TV.  


His eyes flicked towards her as soon as she entered, and relief clearly spread across his face.  


“Hey,” he said, with a nod.  


“Hi.”  


She plopped down next to him.  


They sat in silence for a moment, and Lucca let Stiles look his fill no doubt trying to gauge how she was feeling.  


Slouching against him, Lucca muttered, “Thanks for yesterday. It was…”  


“Awful? Terrifying? Traumatic?”  


She winced but couldn’t disagree with the assessment.  


“Yeah.”  


“Lucca…” he began.  


Squeezing her eyes shut, she didn’t know how to answer his unasked question.  


Stiles seemed to reconsider what he was going to say, and instead murmured, “I’m glad you called me.”  


“It’s never been that bad before,” she whispered. Reluctantly, she straightened up so she could look at Stiles while she spoke. He didn’t appear any worse for the wear after yesterday’s freakout, but considering his baseline, that didn’t say much. Actually, he looked a little lighter than usual, probably because instead of his own problems he was focused on hers.  


“I get migraines pretty frequently. They’re pretty debilitating actually…” she sucked in a breath. “Yesterday wasn’t even a migraine,” she said with a self-deprecating twist to her lips, “Just a normal headache, but it was one of those moments that it was really obvious that my parents aren’t here and…I dunno. I just lost it.”  


“Lucca,” Stiles spoke slowly, watching her warily. “I get it. I do. But yesterday…” he shook his head. “You were practically catatonic for half the day. I would talk to you and move you around and you’d look at me, but you weren’t there.”  


Lucca bit her lip and looked away. There wasn’t anything to say to that because it was true. Yesterday was a pain filled blur. She’s glad she called Stiles, but all actuality, it probably wouldn’t have made any difference if he came or not.  


“I think, maybe…”  


She glanced back at him. His hands were digging into his jeans and he looked like he didn’t want to say what he was about to; his face twisted into a hesitant grimace. He inhaled a fortifying breath.  


“Maybe, you should see a therapist,” the words rushed out in one big breath, like it would lessen the sting if he said it quickly.  


Lucca felt like she’d been smacked in the face. It made no sense: it was a logical suggestion. Grief counseling helped a lot of people. There wasn’t anything shameful about it, but for some reason, rage bubbled under her skin, hot and volatile at the idea.  


“Like _you _see a therapist?” she bit out.  
__

____

Stiles’s fingers flexed and jumped to his feet. A hand found its way from his jeans to his hair, tugging at the strands. 

“Lucca…. don’t…It’s not the same thing and you know it,” he protested. “There’s not exactly a lot of trust worthy therapists in the area that know about the supernatural. It’s not an option for me,” he ground out, frustrated.  


His agitation just made her more annoyed. It didn’t matter that everything he said was true, it didn’t matter that he only said it because he cared – it pissed her off.  


“But it is for me?” she seethed.  


“Yes!” he shouted. “You lost your parents in one fell swoop. That’s devastating! And then you moved. And you’re alone. And of course you’re upset and going to have break downs, but you can have support. Someone to help you through it and it would be idiotic to deny yourself that!” he finished, chest heaving.  


She clenched her fists trying to will down the rioting feelings in her stomach and chest. It felt like she was about to spontaneously combust. Between the anxiety and grief already exposed and raw, and the new anger boiling away, she wanted to crawl out of her skin. Wanted to escape the uncomfortable pounding of her heart, the way her own chest was beginning to heave just like Stiles.  


“I’m already in therapy,” she muttered between clenched teeth.  


Stiles froze, blinking at her. “You’re already…”  


“I have been since I was little.”  


Resentment burned in her throat that she had to admit it. Under normal circumstances, it wouldn’t have bothered so much, but right now…right now she ninety percent sure if Stiles didn’t leave in the next few minutes she’d hit him. The violent urge stuck her as odd, but she was too lost to the feeling to do anything other than ride the rage wave.  


Stiles deflated, looking confused. “Then why…?”  


“Why am I still having meltdowns?” she asked viciously, springing off the couch, unable to sit any longer. “Because therapy isn’t a magic fix! Because talking about shit doesn’t change the past.”  


Suddenly, the exhaustion that had seemed minimized before the fight settled over Stiles again. Quietly, he murmured. “I meant, why are you arguing with me about it.” He looked her up and down before coming to come kind of internal decision. “I’m going to go. Call me if you need anything.” He caught her eye, face somber. “I’m serious, Lucca. Call.”  


He scooped up his phone and keys and quietly let himself out.  


Lucca barely held in the scream of frustration until the door closed behind him. She whirled around and marched to the spare bedroom where she kept her punching bag. The fury churning in her chest unleashed itself and she didn’t waste time with wrapping her hands or putting on her gloves. Each smack of her knuckles against the leather bag brought her vicious satisfaction, but no release. She pounded against the hanging bag, determined to punch it till the livid creature in her chest calmed.  


But each hit just spurred her on.  


Heart jackrabbiting and breath whooshing, each blow of her fist just compelled another and another and another. Another shriek of frustration and anger ripped out of her sore throat as she continued to hit the punching bag with everything she had. Pain erupted along her knuckles and she relished the pain, welcomed it.  


And hit the leather again.  


Repeatedly.  


She spun around wildly, the rage in her chest clawing for escape and the punching bag doing nothing to soothe it. In a blind rage, she threw on some workout clothes and her shoes and left the apartment at a run feeling out of control and savage.


	13. The Douche That Cares More Than You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jackson, a surprisingly good friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been pecking away at this chapter all month when I had any energy left over from my soul sucking job. The scary realization popped up that I started this story over a year ago in July. Cue a quarter life crisis (unrelated to the story, but you know, timing).
> 
> Anyway, this is a Jackson chapter! And it's dedicated to Casperwolf who always reads my new chapters and comments. You always make my day when you do :D

Jackson felt what he assumed was a tornado of rage half a mile away. He slowed his running pace, wary and curious. His other senses told him that it was another person running; he could hear the harsh breathing and heart pounding, the steady patter of their feet – though it sounded more like an angry slap to Jackson, but he didn’t have room to comment on other people’s anger issues.  


He'd been doing his portion of the patrol around the residential area of town while Isaac did the commercial/downtown area. They’d meet up at the loft to give Derek their report.  


The smell came to him before a visual and Jackson instinctively held his breath as a cloud of wrath rolled by him. He shook his head trying to get rid of the scent and absently felt grateful Stiles wasn’t here or he’d make a stupid dog joke about the behavior – if he could smell what the wolves did…well he wouldn’t be so quick to make fun of them.  


Lucca came storming around the neighborhood corner and he jerked back in surprise. Her hair was down and whipping wildly around her head. Sweat drenched her face, neck, and chest and glistened in the sun which he could see clearly as she was only in a sports bra and spandex shorts. She wasn’t just jogging, this was a full powered sprint. He’d say she had a wild animal chasing her, but _she _looked like the wild animal. And had the feral look in her eyes to match.  
__

__After years dealing with Lydia, he knew better than to poke at an angry female and wisely kept his mouth shut, but adjusted his pace so he could keep up when she blew by him without an ounce of recognition.  
_ _

__He kept waiting for her lose steam, slow down some, but she just kept charging ahead in mindless fury. It itched at him to ask what had her so ticked off. As far as the pack went, it had been a quiet weekend after the fairy fiasco on Friday. Technically, Lucca wasn’t pack, despite his wolf accepting her into his inner circle, like it did with Danny. She had a few casual friends from school – none that could ignite this kind of rage – so he assumed it had to be someone in the pack. Maybe Erica again? This degree of anger seemed unlikely though…  
_ _

__Jackson didn’t know how long Lucca had been running before she came across him, and he was equally impressed with her stamina and concerned that her heart would give out with how hard she was pushing herself. Subtly, he steered her back towards her apartment, not saying anything but herding her onto the streets he wanted and felt grateful when slowly, exhaustion replaced the smell of anger.  
_ _

__Her pace lost its ferocity until they ended up in her parking lot, Lucca practically on her knees desperately gasping for breath. Jackson legitimately worried that her heart would burst with the way it was pounding so hard, so rapidly. She fell to her knees, still trying to suck in enough oxygen.  
_ _

__“Lucca, you need to slow your breathing!” he ordered. “Lucca!”  
_ _

__She was hyperventilating and there wasn’t anything he could do.  
_ _

__Then the dry heaving started and he was sure she was going to die on the pavement in a parking lot from asphyxiation.  
_ _

__“Come on! In and out,” he coached, crouching next to her, a hand hovering uncertainly over her back. It had to be the same as talking Stiles through a panic attack. The same breathing pattern. He tried counting, breathing slowly with her – everything he could think of to get her to calm down, to stop heaving like she was about to throw up her lungs.  
_ _

__Finally, he snapped. He grabbed her face between his hands and forced her to look him in the eyes. Wolf eyes flashed blue and he growled, “Get yourself together. Take a deep breath and calm the hell down!”  
_ _

__Wild, blood shot eyes met his and a spike of relief shot through him that at least he had her attention; it had been like talking to a deaf person. Even still, each desperate gasp for air didn’t inspire his confidence. Jackson wasn’t sure how long they sat in the parking lot, Lucca’s cheeks still cupped between his palms as they worked on slowing her breathing. His focus split between monitoring her heart rate and watching the panic gradually fade from her eyes, her body coming down from the precipice by increments.  
_ _

__When her heart come to an acceptable “I just ran like my life depended on it but I’m no longer about to die” rate, and each inhale/exhale fell into a normal post workout spectrum, he suggested they go inside.  
_ _

__Lucca nodded and shakily fumbled to her feet when Jackson released her face. He watched, her stiff movements, as she gingerly walked passed the black gate and up the sidewalk to her apartment. She produced a key from somewhere and Jackson felt impressed that she had the presence of mind to lock her door with how furious she’d been. It’s not something he would have thought of; he would have just charge out of the house.  
_ _

__“Uh-nuh,” he protested, snagging her by the elbow and steering her away from the couch and to the kitchen table. “You are disgusting right now. You are not sitting on the couch.”  
_ _

__“It’s my couch,” Lucca grumbled, accepting the new seat. “I can be gross and sit on it if I want.”  
_ _

__“Whatever,” he groused, also sitting at the table. He eyed her speculatively, watching as her entire body shook with exhaustion. Sweat no longer beading down her chest and temple, but it coated her skin like a thick lotion. Every few breaths her eyelids would droop, and her shoulders were hunched inward, an unusual posture for her.  
_ _

__Taking stock of the apartment, he wrinkled his nose at the cloying mix of scents. Grief, sorrow, rage, loneliness, pain – lots of pain – misery, worry. Underneath that onslaught, he could detect Stiles and Derek’s scents. Whatever led to Lucca’s descent into madness obviously had something to do with them. Subvocally, he growled – he knew it had something to do with the pack.  
_ _

__“I’m thirsty. Where’s your water?”  
_ _

__There might have been a tiniest of smirk on Lucca’s face when she nodded towards the fridge. Rolling his eyes, he went over to survey the contents of her fridge discovering it was well stocked with both edible and healthy food. He snagged two bottles of water and plopped one down on the table in front of Lucca as he reclaimed his seat.  
_ _

__“You smell. You should go shower before you pass out,” he said after along pull of water.  
_ _

__“Your heart of gold is showing, Jackson,” she drawled, water bottle clenched between shaking fingers.  
_ _

__He hated how raw her voice sounded.  
_ _

__“What happened to your hands?” he demanded, noticing the dried blood on her knuckles. The chemo-signals were so strong in here, he could barely discern physical smells; that was something he should have noticed right away.  
_ _

__Lucca tried to shrug, but with the way she was already shaking it just came off at another jerky spasm.  
_ _

__“I’m gonna…shower,” she muttered, between hitched breaths. The water bottle tipped precariously as she set it on the table and stumbled to her feet. Jackson watched as what little color in her face drained as she staggered and then swayed, her hands fumbling to catch the back of the chair to keep her steady.  
_ _

__His wolf whined as he watched her slowly, limp off towards her bedroom and followed her progress with his ears. Once he heard the shower start he got up and followed the faint scent of blood to the spare bedroom. A blood smeared punching bag was not what he expected to find. The entire room was surprising. Rather bare, but there was a rolled-up yoga mat in the corner, a discarded sweatshirt on the floor, a small table with a ipod docking station and a reusable water bottle, and a small collection of boxing gloves, wraps, and tape; the punching bag obviously the focal point of the room.  
_ _

__The stench of anger filled the room and Jackson could envision Lucca in here, trying to work off her rage in a productive way – unsuccessfully apparently since she ended up trying to kill herself by running.  
_ _

__And people thought he had anger issues.  
_ _

__Fiddling around on his phone for a while, he waited till he heard the water shut off and then a few more minutes, monitoring the beat of Lucca’s heart and her breathing. It still wasn’t what he’d call healthy, and once he was convinced that she wasn’t doing anything other than sitting in the bathroom he got annoyed and marched in there.  
_ _

__“Lucca!” he banged on the connecting bathroom door. “I’m going to be really annoyed if you died in there and I’m held liable because I had the misfortune of being here when it happened.”  
_ _

__“Narcissist,” he heard her muttered behind the door.  
_ _

__“Two seconds before I’m coming in there,” he warned. When his warning was only met with silence, he took it as permission to enter; the door wasn’t even locked. A wave of humidity and iced cherries hit his face as soon as he opened the door.  
_ _

__Disappointment panged through him that she had clothes on, a sleep shirt that clung to her skin and stopped mid-thigh – on the up side, he could tell she didn’t have anything on underneath it. Her back was pressed against the cabinets, her legs folded underneath her, and she was panting softly, her chin tilted up and her eyes fluttering open at the sound of him entering.  
_ _

__“What, you couldn’t walk the ten steps to your bed?” he asked, gesturing through the open door behind him where her bed sat five feet away.  
_ _

__“Nope.”  
_ _

__Rolling his eyes, he swooped her up, ignoring her startled yelp, and dumped her on the bed. “Sleep or something,” he ordered, and left.  
_ _

__He heard Lucca mumbling nonsense under her breath but when he returned to pointedly set her water bottle on the bedside table, she had already wiggled her way under the covers.  
_ _

__“Are you leaving?” she asked, reaching for the water and his wolf preened.  
_ _

__“I have better thing to do with my day than babysit you,” was his curt reply.  
_ _

__Lucca nodded like she expected that answer and it pissed him off. Someone should be with her right now since apparently when left to her own devices she’ll try to self-destruct. Right now though, he needed answers, which meant Derek and Stiles. Lucca’s eyes were already drifting shut and her heart slowly to mirror her drowsy state so he felt comfortable leaving for the moment.  
_ _

__He sighed when he stepped outside and realized he didn’t have his car and he’d have to run to the loft and then run home. Werewolf or not, he didn’t want to run everywhere especially when he had a perfectly good Porsche at home._ _

____

As he took the elevator up, Jackson could hear four heartbeats meaning Isaac had already finished his patrol and someone from the pack was over. From the rapid, fluttery pace he could tell it was Stiles.  


Good. It saved him the hassle of tracking him and Derek down separately.  


“What the hell did you do to piss off Lucca?”  


Derek and Stiles both looked up from where they were sitting on the couch, Stiles slower than Derek. Stiles face immediately darkened, and guilt and worry burst from him.  


“Is she okay?” he asked.  


“No. She’s not.” Jackson looked at him like he was an idiot.  


Stiles hunched in on himself and Derek laid a reassuring hand on his arm. Jackson was too worked up about Lucca to feel bad for upsetting Stiles; what Stiles felt wasn’t even a tenth of the emotional turmoil Lucca was going through.  


Derek sighed and shot an annoyed glance at the stairs where Isaac sulked down to listen in on the conversation even thought he could hear perfectly well from upstairs. Nosy bastard.  


“I don’t even know what she was so angry about,” Stiles spoke, shaking his head. “It was like she was just arguing with me for the sake of arguing. I think…she was just worked up from yesterday.”  


Jackson huffed and crossed his arm. “What happened yesterday?” he demanded. Why was it so hard to get answers? Yes, Stile was mentally a little slower these days, but seriously? Like it wasn’t obvious he would ask that next?  


“She’s been repressing a lot of grief,” Derek replied, gruffly still working to sooth Stiles and it irked Jackson that Stiles got comforted while Lucca was alone in her apartment. “It came to a head yesterday.”  


Rolling his eyes, Jackson uncrossed his arms and stomped closer to fling himself at the unoccupied armchair. “Can we cut the bullshit and say what actually happened?”  


“She had a complete breakdown!” Stiles burst out, jerking forward. “Hysterical crying, screaming, catatonia. Apparently between yesterday and today she’s experienced every manic emotion on the bipolar scale!”  


“And you just left her alone?” he shouted back in disbelief.  


“Don’t use that judgmental tone with me,” Stiles hissed, eyes brightening. “I was with her the entire time until being there made it worse.”  


“The entire pack needs therapy,” Isaac mumbled.  


“Shut up,” Jackson shot at him.  


Apparently, Stiles heard the mumble because he deflated just as quickly as he angered. “She’s already in therapy – that’s what we were fighting about.”  


Those visual exercises she talked about suddenly made more sense. However, if what Stiles described is true, therapy was apparently a wash. “I knew therapy was a waste of time,” he muttered, looking out the window.  


Silence fell over the small group. Jackson hung around for a while, reluctantly taking comfort in being in close proximity to his pack. He wanted to be mad at them, because at least he had someone to direct his frustration at, but instead he was left to wrestle with a situation he didn’t have control over.  


After a while though, he made Danny come pick him up. Derek offered to drive him home, but he had different plans. After picking up food, he directed a curious Danny to Lucca’s apartment.  


“So…. what are we doing here?” Danny inquired, after they just sat in his car for a few minutes not getting out.  


Lucca’s heartbeat indicated her sleeping status and that messed up his plans even though it caused the knot in his stomach to loosened. Whatever, they were already here: no point leaving and coming back.  


Jackson slipped out of the car, not answering Danny’s question, and headed towards Lucca’s building. Using the key he nicked earlier, he let them in, continuing to ignore Danny’s questions as he set the food on the kitchen table and rummaged through the cabinets for plates then made himself comfortable on the couch.  


“Seriously, dude,” Danny insisted, awkwardly shifting from foot to foot. “Whose apartment are we in? Why did you have a key? ….and you’re turning the TV on now. Right, that’s normal,” he muttered to himself.  


“Chill Danny, grab some food and sit down,” Jackson ordered. “It’s Lucca’s place. She’s sleeping.”  


Shaking his head at the insanity, Danny did as instructed, used to Jackson’s bossy ways.  


“She’s had a really rough weekend,” Jackson mumbled after Danny had settled and they both sat in silence for a while, the TV playing quietly in the background. He smelled the sympathy rolling off Danny and knowing what he did about her parents, he didn’t pry anymore and seemed content to hangout.  


Jackson suspected the noise woke Lucca because she definitely looked like she could use another few hours of sleep when she stumbled out of her bedroom, blinking at them in confusion. The literal stumbling caused him to frown, so did her rapid heart. The quick fluttering didn’t match the rest of her fatigued demeanor.  


Danny cringed next to him, and being the nice guy that was, he got up to get her the food they brought.  


Lucca sputtered for a second in confusion? Protest? Before Jackson couldn’t help roll his eyes and said, “Get your ass over here. Let Danny do his nice guy routine.”  


“Hey!” Danny gave a token protest, but didn’t skip a beat in what he was doing.  


“When was the last time you ate?” Jackson demanded when Lucca slowly made her way to the couch and sat down next to him. The suicidal run earlier wouldn’t have made her pallor so waxy, and he pushed himself physically enough when he was still human to know that the shakiness Lucca exhibited only came from too much exertion and no subsistence.  


“Friday?” she shrugged, voice scratchy.  


Jackson growled; it was Sunday evening.  


“Fuck, Lucca!”  


She shrugged again and sunk into the couch cushions, her chemo signals strangely muted. The way she tilted her head back, unconsciously exposing her throat, made him relax.  


After force feeding her, there wasn’t much else to do for her. She melted into the couch cushions like a limp noodle and didn’t do more than track their movements and conversation with her eyes.  


“Are you going to survive if we leave?” Jackson asked, standing but hovering.  


Lucca rolled her head to meet his eyes and smirked. “I think I’ll make it the ten hours till I see you in the morning.”  


“Wouldn’t count on it,” Jackson mumbled under his breath. Night time in Beacon Hills wasn’t exactly a relaxing and quiet time; it’s when all the monsters always appeared.  


“Come on,” Danny commanded, snagging Jackson by his shirt sleeve. “That was her subtle way of saying get out. And leave the key you stole.”  


“Key?” Lucca asked, eyes narrowing.  


Jackson smirked but didn’t answer. “See you.”  


Danny waited till they were in the car before saying, “She looked rough.”  


Jackson hummed in agreement. Danny contemplated his silence on the matter as he turned the car towards Jackson’s house.  


“Your wolf accepted her right away.”  
Jackson glanced at him, wondering where he was going with the observation.  


“Why?”  


Okay, a question instead of an observation.  


He shrugged, looking out the window. “It’s nice to be around someone who doesn’t know me.”  


“And?” Danny drawled.  


Shooting an irritated look at his best friend, he snapped. “She’s comfortable to be around. I don’t know what else you want me to say.”  


Thankfully, Danny accepted that answer and let the subject drop. The question stuck with Jackson though, even after Danny dropped him off at home. His answers were true; there was something about Lucca that allowed him to feel settled in his own skin for the first time. Perhaps it had been circumstances, but when with her, he never had any doubt or insecurities about himself.  


It was a relief.  


The time they spent together like a cool breeze blowing away the overbearing negativity that permeated his life. Ironic that her negativity didn’t bother him. It actually gave him something to do which pleased his wolf, and his human side that rarely got to help other people. There were very few people he _would _want to help, but never the less, buried under his reputation and inferiority complex that he refused to acknowledge, lived the small need to help those he deemed important.  
__

__With those realizations, Jackson felt satisfied with his weekend and had no trouble falling asleep._ _


End file.
